An Unusual Mission ...
by Adrian Tullberg
Summary: Batman and Wonder Woman take on a most unusual - and unexpected - mission ...
1. Default Chapter Title

  
  
The Batman.  
  
Urban Legend to the rest of the world, cold reality for the majority of Gotham's criminal population. Nearly superhuman in his mental strength and physical endurance. He has defeated uncountable foes, personal trials and natural disasters. His ability and will have single-handedly held the most dangerous city on Earth together when the rest of the world wrote it off.  
  
Only now, does he face his greatest challenge.  
  
***  
  
"The Horwester Charity function, sir? Tonight?"  
  
The Batman sat at the newly refurbished computer system, updating the Criminals; Captured database. "I know, Alfred. The cause is officially Housing the Homeless, the reality being to re-introduce the Horwester family back into the Gotham social circles after they fled No-Man's Land. The majority of the amounts raised will be soaked up by the administrative functions and the catering, leaving only a pittance for those who actually need it..."  
  
"I've written the check for tonight, and the order for three metric tonnes of foodstuffs to be supplied free of charge to the local shelters, sir."  
  
Batman nodded. "Thank you, Alfred. Black tie affair, dinner and dancing, and a champagne which is bought by those who want to show off their wealth but actually know nothing about their drink."  
  
"You mean, the brand you drink whenever you publicly entertain?"  
  
"Precisely. Very well, set up the fine details. Wayne will have to be there in order to keep up the alibi that I was somewhere else during No-Man's Land."  
  
Alfred took a deep breath. "There's a slight problem with 'the fine details'."  
  
Batman gave his butler the terrifying stare which reduced criminals from the purse snatcher to the world-conqueror to quivering wrecks, but not phasing the gentleman's gentleman for an instant. "This isn't a ploy to try and teach me to iron my own suits again, is it?"  
  
A long-suffering sigh that Alfred specialised in. "No sir, we learned the last time that despite your enviable skills in the forensic sciences and the martial arts, setting an electric iron on 'wool' is mysteriously beyond you." Alfred waited for his superior, and his surrogate son to leap to the answer.  
  
When Batman didn't, Alfred shook his head. "A dinner companion, sir?"  
  
Batman blinked, a sign of sudden shock. "That hasn't been a problem in the past, has it? I mean..." Whenever Bruce Wayne usually went out, it was usually Alfred who contacted some of the more prominent young belles, in his role as unofficial social secretary.  
  
"Sir, as I have warned you in the past - when your usual practice is to take a young woman on a date, swan around making unintelligent conversation, then leave her at home because you have to go on patrol, you are bound to alienate that young lady. You have proven an economic law by steadily using up a finite resource. You have aggravated, annoyed and disrupted every available woman currently within Gotham's city limits."  
  
"Are you sure..."  
  
"Master Bruce, I have spent the last few days trying to 'fix you up', and all I have to show for it is repeated refusals, ringing ears ... and two tentative proposals for coffee on the weekend. Apparently, I'm quite the catch."  
  
Batman slumped in the throne-like chair, considering the options. "Go by myself?"  
  
Immediately, Alfred threw The Gotham Gazette onto the desk, the article about Bruce Wayne being secretly gay circled in red marker. "I know that you couldn't care less, but since the whole point of an unsavoury public persona was to detract an otherwise determined member of the media from prying into your private activities..."  
  
"...I know, I know, a secret Bruce is a public Batman. Anyone from out of town?"  
  
"At this late hour? Not bloody likely ... dare I say, what about young Miss Barbara?"  
  
Batman's lips quirked upwards in a rare, split-second grin. "We did that four years ago, remember? After half an hour of being patronised and talked to very slowly, we had to leave under threat of her shoving her wheelchair..."  
  
"Ah yes. That would have left a mark which your tights couldn't conceal." Alfred checked the time on the Computer. "Sir, the JLA meeting?"  
  
Batman glanced at the terminal and muttered a very nasty word in an obscure language. He got up, adjusting his utility belt and cowl. "More trivialities ... "  
  
"I scarcely feel that defending the planet against inhuman threats can be labelled as 'trivial', but you are the expert ... perhaps you can use the otherwise wasted time to ponder the important issue for today?"  
  
Yes, thought Batman. How the hell can I get a date?  
  
***  
  
The agenda of the meeting concerned recruitment standards, media relations and meetings with heads of states. All things that Batman, maintaining his 'urban myth' aura, had absolutely no interest in participating, but as one of the more dominant members of the JLA, was required to sit in on and add his two bits anyway.  
  
Beyond the gruff 'yes', 'no', and 'don't even think about it, Plastic Man', his mind was furiously attacking the issue of who to ask, based on the criteria of availability (who was free tonight instead of those who were in a relationship, Wayne would occasionally take out a very publicly married woman to reinforce his image as a rake) and attractiveness (shallow, mused Batman, but then again, so was Wayne).  
  
The tally in his head was very short. Batman felt a sinking feeling that snooping reporters were going to take a very close look at him for the next few months. Something that he did not need.  
  
Problems, friend?  
  
Batman looked up, to see the Martian Manhunter listening to the Flash's report on recruiting speedsters.  
  
Of sorts. Do you know anybody who'd be interested in going out with Bruce Wayne tonight?  
  
A smile creased the Manhunter's face. The Batman asking me to fix him up. I hear that's a sign that the world will end again.  
  
Well?  
  
The Manhunter's brow creased in thought. There are a few, but questions would arise as to how the Manhunter knows Bruce Wayne...  
  
An idea appeared in Batman's head. Maybe you can...  
  
Monitor duty. Batman was suspicious at the speed of that rejoinder and the sudden undercurrent of gratitude that accompanied it, but didn't press the issue.  
  
The meeting came to an end, Batman getting up last, lost in thought. Flash and Green Lantern were bickering over the unfairness of the Academy Awards, a running argument that had been going on for weeks. Superman still had a cough, but was looking better than he had in weeks. Batman thought about how that man went on hoping that his wife was still alive, even when his own cold investigator's logic had whispered that he was looking for a corpse. Went on fighting for his wife even though he being eaten from the inside out.  
  
For an instant, Batman felt a stab of jealousy towards that man for having something he seemed destined never to grasp onto.  
  
Movement at the edge of his peripheral vision jolted him out of his uncharacteristic self-pity, and looked up at Green Lantern. "Yes, Kyle?"  
  
Green Lantern was, as always, marginally ticked that Batman had worked out who he was, and he hadn't clue one to the Dark Knight's identity. At first, he was proud that it took The Batman to find him out, but since his 'secret' identity had become widespread to the point where even his refugee coffee-shop owner landlord figured it out, that honour had become more tarnished.  
  
"Er, Batman ... Flash and me ... we were wondering ... do you ... I mean..."  
  
Batman gave the Green Lantern 'the look' until the young man took a breath and started again. "Do you know if Bruce Wayne is gay?"  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Superman react in shock, and Wonder Woman hide a grin behind her hand. "There's no evidence to that effect. Is this in any way important? I want you to think very carefully before replying."  
  
Green Lantern remained momentarily motionless, then shook his head, backing away as Batman turned and left the meeting room.  
  
Wonder Woman watched the dark figure head towards the inner recesses of the Watchtower, and began to follow him.  
  
***  
  
Batman was walking towards Steel's workshop, intent on discussing a new security filter design proposed after Kobra had stolen his body in order to access the Watchtower teleporter system.  
  
He heard the footsteps, knowing immediately who was following him.  
  
"Diana."  
  
"I came to see if you wanted to borrow any of my Barbara Streisland CD's."  
  
Batman didn't even react to this. "You don't own any compact discs."  
  
Wonder Woman rolled her eyes. "Did you have that sense of humour surgically removed, or did it drop off at birth?"  
  
"It disappeared roughly the same time you descended to making jokes about a social minority. Did you put Lantern up to that little remark?"  
  
"I think he put Bruce Wayne living in Gotham, and the world's greatest detective operating in Gotham together. I also think that you're troubled by that than you're letting on."  
  
"Interesting deduction."  
  
"Well, you would have stopped at the 'no CD's' if it wasn't bothering you." When Batman didn't reply, she pressed on. "At least once a year that rumour surfaces, roughly the same time that Cruise and Kidman are about to split up. Why is it disturbing you now?"  
  
Batman looked at Wonder Woman, then scanned the area, surreptitiously triggering a device which generated a sound-cancelling wave - too many people here had enhanced hearing. He gave her an abbreviated version of his current predicament.  
  
Wonder Woman closed her eyes, shaking her head in amusement. "Great Hera ... you're trolling for a date?"  
  
"Unfortunately." Somehow, his voice had lost it's usual grating tone, and sounded ... well, more human. Wonder Woman had to stop at this little fact.  
  
Although her social schedule was ... well, dead, she decided it couldn't hurt to help. Something was always better than nothing. "Aren't there some executives at WayneCorp? Female." She hastily amended.  
  
"Over fifty per cent. However, rumours about Wayne's private life has been distorted there to the point where most of the available women stay as far away from him as possible. Besides - during No-Man's Land, most of them were evacuated in order to continue lobbying Congress. They're still tying up."  
  
"Oh." Suddenly, an idea came to her. "I'll go."  
  
Batman blinked rapidly - an expression of extreme shock. "Excuse me?"  
  
"I'll come along. On a date. With you."  
  
The words had shocked her, but Diana felt that her own momentary disorientation was a small price to see Batman stunned.  
  
However, that shock soon disappeared. "How would Wonder Woman have met Bruce Wayne? In any capacity whatsoever."  
  
"Let's see ... you met me just before No-Man's Land, in order to secure my help in lobbying Washington. You've just re-established contact, and I took pity on you."  
  
Batman was still trying to get over this little fact. "Even so..."  
  
"Bruce, it's either me, or J'onn, at this point." Something must have crossed his face just then. "You did, didn't you?"  
  
Batman sighed. "Yes. Of course, you're right. How shall..."  
  
Wonder Woman touched his arm. "I'll take the teleporter to the Cave at ... eight?"  
  
"Eight pm Eastern Time would be..."  
  
"You're supposed to say 'eight is good'."  
  
"Eight is good." Parroted Batman. He unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how the hell he got into this.  
  
"Right ... formal, is it?"  
  
"These affairs usually are."  
  
"Okay..." an embarrassed silence filled the area. "...I'll see you then."  
  
Wonder Woman turned, slightly shocked at the turn of events.  
  
"Diana?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She gave a slight grin, then walked away.  
  
Batman stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, knowing that he had to do something, but couldn't for the life of him remember what it was.  
  
Green Lantern was heading for the park, intent on getting some good landscapes done, when he noticed Batman standing alone.  
  
Despite his common sense screaming at him to leave the man alone, his sense of goodwill decided to find out what was wrong.  
  
"Er ...Bats?"  
  
Batman's head jolted up. "Yes, Kyle?"  
  
No stinging remark about the informality. He's really bothered by something. "Well ... you were standing there ... are you..."  
  
"I was thinking."  
  
"Ah." An awkward pause. "Was it anything I could help with...?"  
  
"Probably not, Kyle." A breath. "There's a ... dangerous situation tonight that I need to deal with the utmost tact and discretion. If I handle it incorrectly, my actions would jeopardise a long-standing alliance, maybe destroy it permanently."  
  
"Whoa." Muttered Lantern. "I'll ... let you figure it out by yourself, okay? Sounds pretty serious. I mean, you're probably trying to save the world ... and the last time I ever did something like that was when I asked my best friend Susie Connor to the prom."  
  
It was a testament to the awesome willpower of The Batman that he didn't swallow his own tongue right then and there.  
  
"Someone spiked the punch ... think I made a pass at her ... punched me out." Muttered Lantern, oblivious to the Dark Knight's accusatory stare. "I think I should call her, what do you think..."  
  
Batman had taken the first opportunity to make one of his trademark turn-your-back-and-he's-gone exits.  
  
"One of these days ... I'm not going to be so freaked when he does that."  
  
***  
  
Bruce looked at himself in the mirror, examining his features. The bruising from several point-blank-range shots into his armoured cowl had disappeared entirely, and his teeth had recently been re-whitened.  
  
Alfred came into his employer's bedroom unannounced, as always. "Unless you have managed to solve this little problem yourself, Master Bruce, it's either going alone and risking tabloid exposure, or asking Miss Barbara and risking an embarrassing personal injury."  
  
"I've arranged for a dinner companion."  
  
"With all respect, a paid escort could be worse..."  
  
"I'm not paying her ... although, if some of the others hear about it, money will be changing hands." Bruce had a vision of Oracle recording the bets, Clark placing a fifty on Diana publicly dousing him with her drink, J'onn laying three twenties on her not showing up at all, and Deadman popping up and placing the lot on a wild one-night stand.  
  
He placed aside the scenario, and reached into the cupboard to fetch one of his newer tuxedos. "It's Diana, Alfred."  
  
"Ah." The butler knew whom he was talking about. "Will she be in costume, or formal attire?"  
  
"She probably has clothes of her own ... but get something ready just in case. Discretely."  
  
Alfred nodded, already running through his mental catalogue of women's clothing within the mansion, something fashionable for a 5'11 muscular Amazon...  
  
He wasn't particularly worried - Master Bruce had faced graver situations, and was still alive ... although his luck had to run out sooner or later.  
  
***  
  
As Bruce went into the ensuite and prepared his shaving paraphernalia, a wave of terror welled up from his stomach, forcing him to clutch at the mirror.  
  
Bruce Wayne was going to be seen with Wonder Woman, of all people! How the hell could he do something that stupid? Why didn't he wear his costume along with her on his arm?  
  
Call her now, tell her it's a stupid idea, don't risk it.  
  
Bruce looked up at himself, and took a deep breath. Relax.  
  
Her idea was sound, simple and to-the-point. The best sort of lie. He'd better go over the details of their 'meeting', and leak it to the media after tonight. Insinuate that he wanted her to tie him up with that lasso, like he'd seen a hundred prostitutes in cheap costumes re-enact in seedy motels, then deny it publicly. Diana would deny it - her statements, like Clark's, were taken as gospel truth. Preserve both their reputations.  
  
Bruce was slightly annoyed at his panic, but was pleased that he managed to control it. As he soaped up his shaving brush, he went over the list of people who would be there, and how to warn Diana off the more ... intolerable of the social set.  
  
***  
  
Diana looked at herself in the mirror - a dress which she only wore for social occasions and had been gathering dust was now covering her form. The fact that she was fairly immortal and her body rarely changed meant that it still fitted, but she was wondering if it would still stand up in social circles.  
  
A redheaded woman, similar in build and height to Diana, looked over at her self-examination. "Why are you preening?"  
  
"I'm going out, Artemis."  
  
"Ah, an 'undercover' mission?"  
  
"No, a social occasion. I'm going on a date."  
  
Artemis looked at her fellow Amazon strangely. "A...date?" The Amazon hadn't been in Man's World as long as Diana, but knew of the social customs ... if a secret fetish for daytime soaps can be called 'knowledge'.  
  
"Yes, a date. Two people, in this instance, a man and myself, will attend a social function together."  
  
Artemis walked over to Wonder Woman until their faces were nearly touching. "Who is this man?"  
  
"He is Bruce Wayne. A man of..."  
  
"Aha!" The Amazon's cry of triumph shattered the silence of the WonderDome. "A man who has been reported of having numerous affairs and intercourse with small animals! Who uses his wealth to escape prosecution for his crimes against women and other innocents!"  
  
"Where did you hear that?"  
  
"From the courageous reporters of 'Entertainment Tonight'!"  
  
"Artemis ... when did you start watching 'Entertainment Tonight'?"  
  
"I was ... the commercials ... that doesn't matter! This man is a menace!"  
  
"Do you think my judgement would erode to the point where I would let a man like that take me out?"  
  
"Perhaps ... the report was very detailed."  
  
Wonder Woman turned around to the mirror, and started fitting two gold earrings ... the only other pair she owned. Her thoughts were running over wether to get a new wardrobe when Artemis broke in again. "Are you sure this man is honourable?"  
  
Diana thought back to the numerous times she saw the Dark Knight facing up to entities that would break Superman's back, go out of his way to help innocents, and continue in situations that she had labelled hopeless - and win. "That is one of the few things I can be absolutely sure about."  
  
Artemis leaned in closer. "He might appear honourable. What if he tries to ... 'put on the moves'?"  
  
Diana suddenly had a vision of Batman, in full costume, asking her what was her sign, then moving out, John Travolta style, onto a disco floor.  
  
The laughter which she suppressed nearly bent her double, Artemis watched her in confusion. "Diana?"  
  
"I...it's nothing. Just...I don't think that he'll 'put the moves' on me on the first date, okay?" She straightened herself up, and put a coat on - not that she needed protection against the elements, but to protect the dress. Just to annoy her ally a little more, she shouted "Don't wait up!" before launching herself into the sky.  
  
Diana headed for the UN building down below, where a teleporter tube was located, where she would manually program the co-ordinates for the Batcave instead of using the pre-set commands. Batman's paranoia made it very hard for convenient travel ... a situation that he probably preferred.  
  
She had a brief sensation of surreality as the building came in sight - she was going out with the man consistently voted Most Anal Personality of the JLA, even when he resigned. Considering the competition of Orion, and more recently, Aquaman, that was a pretty impressive track record.  
  
What possessed her to ask out Batman, of all people?  
  
As Charon had pointed out, she was becoming lonely. Trying to bring peace to Man's World was a trying, and emotionally draining task. At first she had thought it was an issue of re-educating the males of the world, an illusion shattered when she saw "Jerry Springer's Greatest Catfights". It was like putting out twenty wildfires while teaching a kindergarten full of pyromaniacs not to touch the matches.  
  
Being desperate and dateless was not a real excuse, for going out with the one person in the world who had the ear of the most powerful beings on Earth, and stubbornly not ask for help when his spine was damaged. Didn't she make the 'World's Most Beautiful People' list last year...or the year before? The actual ...getting a date should not be an issue.  
  
Diana saw the mental vision of Batman re-enacting 'Saturday Night Live' in full costume and grinned. Perhaps that man's aloofness was the reason - she had never really seen the Dark Knight in anything remotely resembling a social situation.  
  
The thrill of the challenge, and the creeping edge of boredom. Not exactly the best reasons to hit the town.  
  
As she entered the building, and the secure room where the teleporter was located, she decided to see what happened ... and enjoy herself, no matter what.  
  
***  
  
Diana emerged from the tube, looking around at the refurbished cave. Where was he, anyway...?  
  
A discrete cough attracted her attention to a man in his sixties, in a tuxedo, hands behind his back. "Good evening, Miss."  
  
Diana nodded. "Hello ... Alfred, is it?"  
  
A raised eyebrow. "My heavens, he actually talks about me."  
  
She smiled, brushing her hair back. Was she actually nervous? "Not much ... but what he says is always good. And Cl...Superman agrees. He says that you must have the patience of a saint."  
  
"It's a pleasure to know that even Mr. Kent appreciates my efforts..." Replied Alfred, signalling that he was in the know. "...of course, he completely underestimates the resolve needed. Master Bruce is getting dressed ... since he was trying on his third shirt when I last looked, it might be a while." The butler moved aside, showing a coffee set on a silver platter. "Would you...?"  
  
"Water, please."  
  
Alfred nodded, producing a chilled carafe from nowhere and deftly pouring into a glass that appeared by magic. "Ice?"  
  
She shook her head while Alfred passed her the glass. She swallowed half the glass, then placed it on a computer terminal. "Will this dress suit the occasion?"  
  
Alfred glanced down-up, then reached behind him. Somehow the glass had gone before it made a stain. "Those women hold the arts of insults and backstabbing as importantly as Master Bruce holds his ... nocturnal activities. They will find something wrong with that dress, or anything else you might wear. I usually find that..." he held out a thin, flat box. "...distracting them with something they can't possibly have is usually an effective technique to deflect part of the critique."  
  
Alfred opened the box to reveal a silver necklace, with an inlaid red gem half an inch wide in the centre. "Half those vultures would kill for this particular piece. The other half will hopefully die."  
  
With that, he moved behind the Princess and deftly clasped it around her neck. The reflection in the massive monitor showed that the silver of the necklace matched her bracelets.  
  
"It belonged to Master Bruce's mother ... quite enchanting, in my opinion."  
  
"Is there a..."  
  
The butler produced a small mirror from behind his back. As Diana took a better look at the jewellery, she glanced upwards at Alfred. That patient look was virtually the same as Br...Batman's when he was waiting for something.  
  
"You've been with Bruce for a long time, haven't you?"  
  
"There are times when I remember not being a part of his life. They are few, and far between. Good thing too ... when I have to work elsewhere, he survives on pizza and whatever a delivery boy can be bribed to bring up here."  
  
Alfred looked around the cave while Diana digested the mental image of Batman trying to solve a crime while eating an everything-but-the-anchovies. "Rather than embarrassing him behind his back ... may I show you the cave?"  
  
Diana thought for a moment. "Can't we do both?"  
  
"Miss Diana - I can't fathom any reason to stop. Shall we migrate to the gymnasium and those first attempts at toilet training, or the trophy room and the baby photos?"  
  
***  
  
Bruce descended down the hewn stone staircase, looking at the central systems. Where was she...?  
  
"...we spent three hours on the winch trying to free that blessed thing from the rubble..."  
  
Alfred. Bruce followed the voice towards the trophy room, situated on the lower levels along with the Cray processors. Striding quickly, the voices became more and more distinct as he progressed.  
  
"...it's on an angle..."  
  
"I know. Master Bruce is going to help re-align it tomorrow night, after his patrol..."  
  
The voice stopped, as Bruce entered the trophy room.  
  
He saw Diana floating up to the top of the giant penny, taking it in one hand, and shifting it. When they had recovered it from the rubble of the quake, and re-positioned it, the lettering of the coin ended up an inch or two on an angle. He had been meaning to winch it up, and re-align it, but other matters had been pressing.  
  
Bruce saw her flying ... her dress was billowing gently in the air conditioning, the look of concentration on her face as she re-set the multi-ton weight.  
  
For an instant, he was frozen at the sight.  
  
Diana looked at Alfred for confirmation, then landed next to him.  
  
"Thank you Miss Diana ... you have saved an old man's back."  
  
"He doesn't make you do something like that, does he?"  
  
"No ... but it doesn't mean I can stop him."  
  
Diana jumped slightly, then turned around to give the Batman, the one person who could consistently sneak up on her, a piece of her mind.  
  
She saw Bruce Wayne, notorious charmer, and living up to every rumour, in one of the world's most expensive tuxedos, with a faint, nervous smile on his face.  
  
This stunned her more than anything else ... was this the Dark Knight she'd propositioned earlier today?  
  
From behind his back he produced something - a single-stemmed rose in green tissue paper. He presented it to her with an attempt at ceremony.  
  
"This ... is unexpected." Diana took the rose, and inhaled the scent. "I expected to be thrown in the back of the car as soon as I got here."  
  
"With all the time I've spent training him in manners?" Stated Alfred. "Probably ignores it as soon as my back is turned..."  
  
"Thank you Alfred ... we can wait a while before leaving, if you wish. I've developed a reputation of rarely arriving on time."  
  
"There's even a running bet on how long he's going to be late."  
  
Bruce gave him a quick not-now-or-ever glare. Alfred, unfazed, nodded to Diana. "I'll get the limousine ready ... just make sure he doesn't try anything while I'm gone."  
  
Alfred left while Bruce tried to compose himself. Diana gave him a slight smile. "Clark was right ... he is extraordinary."  
  
"Most of the time. He's enjoying the fact that you're not a debutante or society belle. Hates the entire social scene ... more than I do."  
  
"So basically, I'm here to reinforce your image in a crowd of people you hate."  
  
"Yes." His tone was apologetic. "You can back out, if you wish."  
  
"I've already hired a babysitter."  
  
Bruce was about to react, then got it. "Have you seen the cave yet...?"  
  
"Alfred showed me most of it."  
  
"Oh ... you haven't seen the manor, have you?"  
  
"I saw the Architectural Digest feature. Clark loaned me his copy."  
  
"That's good, that's good..."  
  
"Wayne ... quit stalling."  
  
"You're right." He held out his elbow. "Shall we?"  
  
She slid her arm through his, and they walked towards the staircase. "Is there anything I should know?"  
  
"Any urge to kill the hosts of this bash should be suppressed until there are no witnesses."  
  
***  
  
Bruce shifted in the backseat while Diana watched him. He opened a secret compartment in the driver's seat, revealing a Bat costume, checking the compartment in the utility belt one by one, then re-set the panel. He then looked at Diana, an expression of ... apprehension, on his face.  
  
"This is your last chance to back out of this Diana. This is not going to be pretty."  
  
Diana gave a wan smile. "I've faced Doomsday, Mageddon, and the General. A society bash can't be that hard."  
  
"Believe me, in half an hour you'll wish you were facing every supervillian on the planet again." Muttered Alfred. "The things I've heard from the other drivers...the things I could tell you...."  
  
"Thank you Alfred ... I'm saying that this is a field of combat you're not entirely used to. Also ... you'll see me act much more differently."  
  
"Now I can't resist." Stated Diana.  
  
"We're here." Stated Alfred, the limo pulling to a halt. "Once more into the breach..."  
  
A flash of intuition made Diana look at Bruce. His usual dour expression was there ... until a shutter seemed to slam tightly shut behind his eyes. When he looked at her again, his shoulders were slightly slumped, the usual fierce intelligence gleaming from his eyes was non-existent, and a slightly dopey smile made Diana nearly collapse in shock...good thing she was sitting down.  
  
"Diana! Shall we...?" He held out his hand, which she numbly took.  
  
The door was opened, and bright piercing lights strobed into the interior of the car. Bruce, obviously used to this, gently escorted her out of the car.  
  
The lights were the flashes of paparazzi, lining the sides of the hotel entrance. Bruce started waving to a few, obviously 'old friends'. Diana regretted not carrying weapons.  
  
Her enhanced hearing picked out a few stray words in the crowd's roar. 'Is that...?'  
  
'...definitely her...'  
  
'...thought she was shacking with Supes...'  
  
'...goddamn rich bastard ruining it for the rest of us...'  
  
'...does she use the rope?'  
  
She suddenly heard Bruce talking softly, lips not moving, in the way he'd directed her and Clark countless times on the battlefield. "Turn at the same angle as me and smile at them, hold your pose until I move. Then face the other side and repeat." A pause. "You're doing fine."  
  
Diana followed the instructions, even pressing in a little. Bruce gently led her towards the entrance. "That was the easy part."  
  
"Great Hera, I'm blind."  
  
"Keep your eyes closed for twenty seconds."  
  
Diana let him lead, keeping her head bowed. When the elapsed period finished, she found herself going through the doors.  
  
Inside was a massive ballroom, nearly the size of a football field, filled with people in expensive clothes, and a low, respectful hub of conversation at a slightly louder tone than the orchestra.  
  
A woman who was in her forties but presenting it well suddenly swanned up to Bruce, with an excited squeal and air-kissed him on both cheeks. "Bruce! Darling! I thought you weren't going to make it!"  
  
"Greta, do I ever miss a party?"  
  
She gave a mock pout. "My Cancer function three years ago."  
  
Bruce gave a 'offended' look. "That was a matter of life and death!"  
  
"Really ... how old was she?"  
  
"Eighteen. That's what she said, anyway."  
  
'Greta' gave a slight titter, a rapid staccato laugh. "Oh, you're so naughty! And you haven't introduced me to your friend here..." She peered at Diana, confused. "...have we met..."  
  
"Unlikely." Said Diana, smiling, hating her already. "Diana of Themyscira."  
  
This rung a bell for Greta, but she didn't get the tune. "Were you on the news?"  
  
"I'm the ambassador for a small island nation." Pressed Diana. "I also do some PR work for the JLA."  
  
"Oh, I see!" Said Greta, obviously clueless. "Well ... I hope you enjoy your stay in Gotham..."  
  
"I intend to." Said Bruce, taking Diana's arm. "Diana, there's somebody I simply must introduce to you. If you'll excuse us...?"  
  
As Diana and Bruce moved on, Diana took a deep cleansing breath, the sort that promises to dispel anger but utterly fails to work. "That woman is..."  
  
"I know. Unless it's on the social pages or prime time, she's utterly oblivious."  
  
"How long until she realises?"  
  
"Well, she'll be asking her secretary, Betty by now, who keeps up with everything. And Betty will be getting over her shock and telling Greta just about..."  
  
A suppressed squeal made a few heads turn towards the entrance.  
  
"She'll be trying to get you to be the guest of honour at one of her luncheons. Avoid at all costs."  
  
"Her or the event?"  
  
"Both."  
  
***  
  
"So you're Wonder Woman?"  
  
This was delivered by a large man, with an English accent, babyish face, and large moustache.  
  
"Yes, I am." Already she had been headhunted to do four commercials dealing from being the face of a large emerging software company to public service work for yeast infections. She made a mental memo to kill Booster Gold at the earliest opportunity.  
  
Not to mention the eleven different charity luncheons, functions, soirees for everything from breast cancer to the newly-popularised Parkinson's Disease. Her polite refusals were already earning her the ' uptight bitch' and 'slut' slurs from all over the room. And everybody thought that Superman had the monopoly on super-hearing.  
  
"I'd like to know, since it's my field and all that, how do you super-people handle funding and all that?"  
  
Diana blinked. A half-way intelligent question.   
  
"The UN delivers a funding grant every year ... most member nations deliver a voluntary contribution to our organisation every year as well. Mostly, since we use minerals from space and material contributions such as advanced technology from other sources, such as other planetary governments, our budget is very low, comparatively speaking."  
  
"That's strange. Here I was, thinking that you'd have multi-billion expenditures because of all that property damage you fellows do, and all that. Well then-" he produced a small business card "-if you need investment advice, tax havens, and all that, just give me a call..."  
  
"Diana!" called Bruce materialising beside her. "Sir Gregory here isn't trying to steal you away from me, is he? You old fox!"  
  
"What, me? My wife wouldn't let me for starters. Pity, though, she'd be a lot more interesting to be around if she did though. I mean, in the seventies, I was considered..."  
  
"Sorry, Sir Greg, but I promised to introduce Diana to an old friend over there. Catch you on the course!"  
  
Bruce swept her away with a speed that bordered on the ruthless. She breathed a sigh of relief.  
"Hera will thank you."  
  
"Trying to get your investment portfolio?" Bruce's tone was that of the 'public' face - the party was in full swing, and he probably didn't want to scare anybody with his 'Batman' voice.  
  
"The JLA's"  
  
"One of the rare breed of investment bankers; an honest man ... can't balance a checkbook to save his life though."  
  
Diana was stunned by this. "Then how is he-" she consulted the card "-VP of New Developments, and a majority stockholder?"  
  
"Deeply inside the Old boy's network in London. That means unparalleled contacts within Europe's, and the World's financial community. Worth any amount of incompetence he's capable of, but he knows his limitations, and delegates most of his work."  
  
Diana wondered about the illogicality that composed Man's World - never would something like that exist on her island - but then again, a strict royal matriarchy in a warrior society consisting solely of women made an 'Old Boy's Network' a virtual impossibility.  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
"Yes...?" That vapid grin was incredible. If she didn't realise just how much of it was an act, the urge to punch it would be irresistible.  
  
"I have to ... freshen up?"  
  
"I'll be waiting..." A slight suggestive leer that communicated the intent, but just not visible enough to convince the jury.  
  
***  
  
Diana entered the lady's room, and saw several women standing around the mirror. They looked at each other guiltily, and hastily exited, some forgetting their purses in their rush.  
  
Hmm, just whom were they talking about? Thought Diana, deciding good sarcasm was wasted without an audience.  
  
These systems didn't exist within her island world, and never would. A strict military hierarchy precluded cliques and elites - even the 'officer' mentality was non-existent due to the heavily ingrained doctrines of sisterhood. She took a breath, and looked at herself - she would probably never fit in properly back on Themyscira, or here either.  
  
Perhaps this was what it was to be truly alone - surrounded by hundreds, but incapable of talking to none of them.  
  
Deciding not to dwell on this solitude, Diana stood at the mirror and experimentally fluffed up her hair. Satisfied, she produced her lipstick and started re-touching. Normally, she wore no make-up, but putting on a shade of 'Passion Red' was her only concession to formality.  
  
A woman who had just entered the women's room came up behind Diana as she blotted. "You are Wonder Woman, aren't you?"  
  
Diana assessed this person - forty-five, fifty, touched up her brown locks but otherwise all natural. Probably used a Stairmaster every day. "Yes, I am...you are?"  
  
"Rebecca Stanton. I just wanted to ask...."  
  
What? What's Bruce like in bed? How much is he paying you? Does he really use small animals in that way?  
  
"...what's Batman like?"  
  
This question shook Diana. In her experience, mostly JLA press conferences, the media avoided asking, or mentioning the Dark Knight, because their reputations as 'serious reporters' weren't worth indulging any curiosity in urban legends. The general public usually followed this line. But then again, it had been a while since she had been in Gotham...  
  
"I thought everybody considered Batman a myth."  
  
Rebecca smiled. "Oh, we know. We don't like to talk about him ... you don't believe in the boogyman, but there are times when you just don't want to look under the bed ... do you know what I mean?"  
  
Diana, with her strict Amazon warrior upbringing, had no idea whatsoever. "Yes, I think so ... well, Batman is ... he's..." Diana realised that defining Batman was a major task in itself. "...can you imagine a workaholic, the kind that would rather die before leaving his work unfinished?"  
  
"My husband."  
  
"Well, if you multiply your husband by ten, and if he was a policeman ... you might understand what Batman was like. Why...?"  
  
The older woman looked at the mirror, and examined her features while she talked. "My husband was mugged two years ago. There were five of them, and they wanted ... needed, to use their knives. They were just about to touch him when..."  
  
"Batman."  
  
"Hospitalised all five of them. I found out later that they had killed every one of their victims, so that they wouldn't be identified." She turned to Diana. "Sometimes my husband won't go away from a task, will spend days without sleeping at his desk ... but there's those times when he looks at me, and others, little things, I guess ... could you thank Batman for me?"  
  
"As soon as I see him." Promised Diana.  
  
Rebecca turned to leave, then back to Diana, placing a comradely hand on her arm. "I know he's good looking, but you can do better than Bruce." She raised her hands to ward off Diana's anticipated objection. "I know, half the things they say about him aren't true, and the other half are wild distortions ... but that man simply doesn't use what God gave him. Unless he gets his act together ... I don't know, one of these days, he's going to wake up, and realise how lonely he is. Don't wait until then."  
  
With that, she left the bathroom, leaving Diana to ponder this new perspective.  
  
***  
  
She entered the ballroom, ruthlessly using her meta-level strength to navigate the crowd until she found Bruce. He was describing, with great animation and excessive volume, how he almost made par on the thirteenth hole.  
  
Diana came behind him, looping her arm through his. "Bruce?"  
  
"Hmm ... oh! Diana! I'll just recap quickly for you..."  
  
"I hate to steal you away, but there's something I have to talk to you about...?"  
  
"Ah ... well ...I..."  
  
The others were enjoying his discomfort. "For god's sake Wayne, it's not like we haven't heard this before!"  
  
"Oh, well ...I'll see you later then..."  
  
Bruce was led/dragged through the room, looking suitably stunned, but still interacting, waving at somebody, Diana recognising a national TV sitcom star. "I met a Rebecca Stanton in the bathroom?"  
  
Bruce's voice kept up his conversational tone. "Oh yes? Her husband works at the local LexCorp facility. VP of Sales, trying to headhunt him for years."  
  
"She asked me about Batman."  
  
Bruce's face never shifted, although a faint tremor lanced though his bicep - nearly imperceptible, if you didn't have enhanced senses to compensate for super-dense bodily tissue, and weren't looking for it. "Oh, really? Never figured Becky for tabloid gossip."  
  
"She wants me to thank him for saving her husband's life."  
  
Comprehension 'dawned' on Bruce's face. "Oh! Yes, I heard about that! Escaped from some knife-wielding muggers a while back. Nasty, very nasty."  
  
"She wanted me to thank Batman."  
  
"Well, you do that ... and tell him to meet me on the course tomorrow, would you?" That line was delivered in a condescending tone that made Diana want to hit Bruce very hard, and it was a testament to his acting skill that it came closer to succeeding than anything else in this evening.  
  
"Bruce, talk to me like that one more time, and I'll feed you your utility belt." This sweetly delivered remark took a full half-second to register, the realisation as effective as a crowbar between the eyebrows.  
  
Diana, ruthless warrior she was, pressed her advantage. "We've spent enough time here, don't you think? You've got five minutes to get us out of here..."  
  
"Or...?"  
  
"...or I start talking about how you asked me out simply so you could get some time alone with Superman."  
  
Her features were friendly, but her eyes conveyed the seriousness of her threat.  
  
Bruce gulped, theatrically, and headed over to Greta to make his excuses.  
  
***  
  
They were walking outside the hotel, into the massive parking lot. Bruce knew that he had made an enormous pax faux in there, but didn't have any idea of how to fix the situation.  
  
"I couldn't stay there much longer myself..." Bruce produced something that looked like a pager, and a car's lights turned on in the parking lot.  
  
"Alfred stays out there?"  
  
"I've told him to go home, but he likes to read mystery novels ... his current addiction in Patrica Cornwell." Bruce's tone was loosing the 'idiot', and gravitating more to the glimpse of humanity she saw at the Watchtower. "I was going to go on patrol ... do you want to come along?"  
  
"From what Clark and Kyle say, any other hero that dares come to Gotham isn't partnered with you ... more like chaperoned."  
  
Bruce gave Diana a strange look before reaching the limousine, Alfred already opening the passenger door, letting Diana slide in first.  
  
Bruce waited until the car started before resuming the conversation. "I'm inviting you along because ... because I'd like you to come with me."  
  
This statement sounded forced ... she had just seen Bruce stonewall, hedge, avoid the topic and downright lie twenty-seven times tonight with Academy Award winning skill, so this wasn't a performance. Diana let a perfect eyebrow raise, keeping the ball in Bruce's court.  
  
Bruce tried to re-arrange his words ... why was this so difficult? "Back there ... it wasn't me. I'd like to show you what I really am ... well, what part of me is Gotham."  
  
Diana was intrigued, this was as close to a personal confession as she'd ever heard from this man. "Buy me dinner, and you're on."  
  
***  
  
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on the roof of Wayne Tower. Diana looked down at the paper sack with two large Big Mac Meals with drinks - Batman had bought the meal, climbed up the side of the building, not spilling a drop, and the meal was still warm. And all without been seen. Not bad for a man who couldn't fly.  
  
Diana took her fries, looking at Batman - somehow, it was impossible to think of him as Bruce while he wore the costume. He was tapping a control panel on his belt, setting up the police scanner while checking his burger.  
  
"So..." she said, tapping excess salt into the air. "...do you come here often?"  
  
The split second grin was nearly imperceptible. "Fairly often. From here, you can reach the entire city." A bite and quick swallow as he pointed to an overhanging gargoyle on a concrete strut, nearly a hundred metres below. "If you jump off here ... and snag that ... you get enough momentum to launch to that flagpole ... and then you reach the Von Grunwald Tower. Less than a minute."  
  
Wonder Woman devoured a handful of fries as she pondered the physics. "Terrifying."  
  
"At first. Then you use the fear. Let it drive you."  
  
Diana sipped her coke, as she watched the expressionless face of the Dark Knight eating a Big Mac. "Did you know that there's a running pool as to when you're going to get an ulcer?"  
  
"Clark scans me every meeting. Flash has been placing twenty dollars every month, Green Lantern has been thinking about it but his financial situation prevents excessive expenditure."  
  
Diana shook her head. "You know, acting like a human being wouldn't kill you."  
  
"I have a city to defend. I am currently the only non-powered Charter Member of the JLA. Acting human wouldn't be advisable."  
  
"Would you ever give this up?"  
  
"Would you give up your mission in 'Man's World'?"  
  
Diana cursed herself for falling into an obvious trap, and was thinking of another tactic when Batman spoke. "Why did you ask me out then?"  
  
"Well ... at first, I wanted to see if you could act ... normal. Also ... we don't spend much time doing anything remotely non-work related."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
This was the last thing she expected - Batman never apologised for anything, usually because he was usually right, and always stubborn. "What for?"  
  
"For bringing you into that..." A gauntleted hand pointed towards the hotel they had come from. "...for treating you like nearly every other woman I've ... used, to reinforce Bruce Wayne's image." Batman's shoulders slumped slightly. "For not ... for not realising until today that I've aggravated every woman who would speak to me." He looked at Wonder Woman, his face drawn.   
"To answer your question ... I don't know if I can ever give this up. No matter what it does to me. You can't give up a lifelong obsession just like that."  
  
"That's the first step."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Admitting you have a problem."  
  
Batman growled. "Perhaps. Maybe that idea of yours has merit."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"More social activities."  
  
Wonder Woman thought on this topic. "The JLA goes bowling."  
  
"Plastic Man would cheat."  
  
"Maybe hold the meetings somewhere new ... don't you have property in Metropolis?"  
  
"Clark's apartment."  
  
"I don't think Lois likes me."  
  
"She didn't like Clark, at first."  
  
Diana nodded, polishing off her burger - Batman had finished, and was sipping the drink without the straw. "Anyway, that's a moot point - Luthor is trying to litigate the apartment building out of my hands. I own the land and property, but he's threatening to cut off all basic utilities until I hand the deed over free and clear."  
  
"Somehow I'm completely failing to be surprised ... what are you going to do?"  
  
"That building is the only access I've got to B13 technology. If I'm going to operate in any way in Metropolis, I have to keep part of it from Luthor. Right now, I'm considering investing in SteelWorks ..."  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Talk about something else. Anything apart from-" she sat down, legs crossed, facing Batman. "-work, our ... obsessions that make us wear fancy dress. Do you like music? Movies? Theatre? Sports?"  
  
Batman opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again. Diana saw an expression of desperation cross briefly. "I ... I liked 'The Cherry Orchard' once. It's a play, set in pre-revolutionary Russia ... I haven't seen it in years ... forget who wrote it." A wry smile crossed his face. "Robin likes alternative music ... don't understand it myself ... Alfred tried to make me listen to Opera when I was younger ... much younger. It's very good when you're in a contemplative mood...and I play the worst game of golf in Gotham."  
  
Diana grinned slightly at this. "We're getting somewhere. What about movies?"  
  
Batman darkened slightly ... Diana saw him retreating back into his old persona. "Not since that night."  
  
Wonder Woman knew what he was talking about - she had gotten the story out of Superman during a sudden attack of curiosity; eight-year-old Wayne watched a gunman execute his parents in a botched robbery, and devoted his life to vengeance on all crime from that moment on.  
  
"How is your own social life, then?" His voice sounded more hurried than usual, attempting to change the subject.  
  
A wry grin crossed her face. "Hardly better than yours. I train. I try and stop wars. Occasionally, I meet Julia and Valerie, or Helena ... have lunch, or coffee. I think I'm becoming addicted to expressos."  
  
Diana stood up, and stretched. "I heard that Gotham had more to offer than just one tower. The view's marvellous, but isn't there any more to your city?"  
  
Batman triggered a button on his belt. "Follow me."  
  
With that, he ran to the edge of the building, and leapt into space.  
  
Wonder Woman felt the winds lift her into the air, and floated after the Dark Knight, watching him travel his city in his preferred manner.  
  
The Batman traversed the rooftops effortlessly, with the ease of total mastery of this art.   
  
He first ran across the flat portions of the city, at incredible speeds. He would then launch himself into the air, throwing a batarang towards any extending piece of foundation - he seemed to have memorised every anchorage point in the city. The projectile would catch, and then he would be swinging, using the momentum to propel himself faster across the urban landscape than any human without a metagene had any right to move.  
  
He then leap to the ground, to where a long, sleek black car was waiting, engine purring. As Diana descended, she realised that it was the latest incarnation of the Batmobile.   
  
The roof slid open and Batman landed next to the vehicle. Wonder Woman wondered why he didn't enter the vehicle - until he extended an arm for her to enter first.  
  
"At least you remembered your manners, Mr. Wayne." Murmured Diana, as he helped her into the seat.  
  
"Alfred would never let me forget it if I did." Responded Batman, as he crossed into the driver's seat.  
  
The cockpit closed, and the car took off. Immediately the police band filled the interior.  
  
"Most people use music on a date." Stated Diana.  
  
"We're not most people." Murmured Batman. He did, however, touch a switch which muted the volume to a background level.  
  
"So ... do we go to Makeout Point?"  
  
"Only on Fridays ... " Batman began, then stopped himself. He turned to Diana, a slight smile on his face. "If I knew I had a chance, I would have used the Lamborghini."  
  
"Why Mr. Wayne ... do you get lucky with that car?" Diana was beginning to enjoy this flirting ... okay, it was probably on par with kids in junior high, but she was going to flirt, dammit.  
  
"Truth be told ... I haven't tried ... in that area ... for a long time."  
  
"That was completely unsurprising."  
  
"No ... I guess it isn't." Batman was silent. "Only today I've noticed what I've been missing."  
  
"Careful ... people might think that you're human."  
  
Since that first confession, it seemed earlier to continue in that vein. "For the first time, I envied Clark ... for his marriage."  
  
Diana gave Batman an odd look. "Most men envy Clark for his powers."  
  
"I don't." A pause. "Have you ever ...regretted...?"  
  
"A lot." Diana shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. "I've seen friends find somebody ... get married ... you read about how you're supposed to have wild affairs with some of ...or the most powerful man on Earth, when in reality he's found somebody years ago, and you're all alone ..." she trailed off, wondering at the venom in her own voice.  
  
"I ... I can sympathise. Parts of it, I mean."  
  
An uncomfortable silence filled the Batmobile's interior, until Batman broke it. "It appears we have something in common."  
  
Diana nodded, trying to smile. "We're married to our ... jobs. At the expense of our personal lives."  
  
"Somehow I doubt that anybody would ever suspect we're workaholics ... with these outfits."  
  
A slight snort indicated Diana's suppressed laugh. "Batarangs and Mylanta."  
  
"Bracelets and therapy." Murmured Batman, a slight smile on his face.  
  
"I think you need it more than I do."  
  
"After Hugo Strange ..."  
  
Suddenly the background murmur of the police scanner turned to full volume. Batman's eyes widened at the report, and he flicked several switches while sending the Batmobile into a screeching 180.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Robbery of a liquor store. Silent alarm's been tripped. We're closer than any patrol car."   
  
Wonder Woman was feeling decidedly naked ... this was meant to be a date, not a battle, and the only weapons she had were her bracelets.  
  
Batman must of noticed her trepidation. "There's weaponry in the storage space behind you ... nothing that you're familiar with though..."  
  
Wonder Woman looked in the back, and pulled out a compound bow and arrow. She examined it, then took an aluminium arrow with a stubby, conical point on the end, and hefted it experimentally, before tossing both of them away. "What's the plan?"  
  
***  
  
The youth, K to his friends, was looking around the store, the adrenalin rush mixing with the crystal meth he'd taken earlier tonight.  
  
The college kid who'd taken the night shift for book money was lying down in a pool of blood, the .357 round passing through his left lung nicking a vein.  
  
His compatriots, Kev, Stills and Wes, were going through the cash register, as well as all the top quality booze in the place.  
  
Suddenly, a woman opened the doors, and walked in like she owned the place. "There you are. I'm looking for a nice white ... my date is expecting me soon, but doesn't know a thing about his drink. Got anything good in stock?"  
  
She wore a red dress, and weird armbands, and some kind of funky accent ... French, maybe?  
  
But ... that neck-thing - too thick to be a necklace - had a big jewel in the middle. Had to be worth something.  
  
And the bitch looked like a supermodel as well. Okay, her arms were thick like those girls on Monday Night Nitro, but the rest of her ...  
  
She seemed to ignore the other guys, and the guns, and went right up to the counter. "Hello? Any service?"  
  
Then she saw the college kid.  
  
She didn't seem scared, though. More angry, than anything. She jumped over the counter, and checked the guy out like those guys on ER.  
  
K drew his gun - not as smooth as he'd like, it kept on snapping in his pocket - and pointed it at her. "Okay, bitch, I want the jewel, and the cash. Hand it."  
  
She looked up from her examination. "This man needs help. Put down your gun and help me."  
  
K laughed. Uptown bitch who liked to give orders. "Now you look! This piece says that you get away from that piece of meat there, and ..."  
  
She moved.  
  
Somehow, she grabbed K's wrist behind the gun, and squeezed with her thumb and index finger. The pain made K shriek and instantly drop the gun.  
  
The others saw what happened, and drew their weapons, firing.  
  
Then the woman started ... punching the air in front of her, at incredible speed. Sparks flew in the middle of the air where she punched.  
  
K realised, as he grabbed his dropped gun with his left hand, that she was hitting the bullets before they hit her, and bouncing them away.  
  
The woman was advancing as she intercepted the bullets, and grabbed Kev's by the neck. She immediately threw him into Wes, sending them crashing into the ice-freezer.  
  
Stills ran out of ammo. He grabbed a litre-bottle of Jacks, and ran towards her, bottle hefted like a club. If he could get one shot in ...  
  
The woman turned, quicker than he could register, grabbed the bottom of his denim jacket, and pulled up, enveloping his arms and head in the cloth, just before head-butting him.  
  
K had taken three bottles of 140-proof Polish vodka, and poured them into a bucket. When the woman had finished with Stills, he threw the contents of the bucket over her.  
  
She looked slightly surprised when soaked by the cold liquid. K then tossed his Zippo on her.  
  
Like he imagined, she went up like an oil-soaked rag.  
  
But unlike he imagined, the wall of fire she became walked unhurriedly to the nearest fire extinguisher, and calmly played it over herself. She seemed to take more care with her clothes and jewellery than her own flesh.  
  
The woman was blackened, covered in soot, her makeup burnt away. Nothing a shower wouldn't cure. She examined her dress, what parts weren't burnt away was blackened, completely carbonised, and filthy.  
  
"This ... this was my best dress."  
  
She moved towards K, films of dirt falling off her.  
  
"My only formal dress."  
  
K moved away, trying to back off as quickly as possible.  
  
"Welll..." he was trying for bravado that he didn't really feel "...whatcha gonna do about it?"  
  
The woman gave him a chilling smile. "I'll give you to my friend. He's just behind you."  
  
K was about to sneer when he heard a dry chuckle behind him.  
  
He turned, slowly, to see a dark shadow, in a cape and wearing a symbol of a bat on it's chest.  
  
The youth immediately fainted.  
  
***  
  
Diana looked at Batman, standing over the youth. "Now I see the advantage of trying to intimidate everyone you meet. So your enemies just pass out in front of you."   
  
"It helps."  
  
"I wish they'd do that for me. Saves a whole lot of actual fighting. Did you get the man behind the counter out?"  
  
"Just before Sleeping Beauty here decided to set you alight. He's stabilised within the car. You didn't have to..."  
  
"Batman ... who was most capable of surviving whatever these people threw at us?"  
  
He was about to argue, when he shook his head. "You're right. Thanks for your help, Diana."  
  
Diana looked down at her dress, mournfully. "Can we get back to the cave? I think I've had enough of Gotham's nightlife for one night."  
  
***  
  
The Batmobile entered the Cave, and Batman got out, Diana following without waiting for Batman, neither of them saying anything, the awkward silence filling like a mist.  
  
Batman pushed back his cowl, trying not to convey his nervousness. For some reason, Diana wasn't looking directly at him.  
  
They were walking to the teleporter tube situated somewhere in the more distant recesses of the cave, the silence growing more deafening with every step. Bruce suddenly stopped, Diana pivoting to face him.  
  
"Diana ... the holdup notwithstanding ... this was one of the better evenings I've had ... in quite a long while."  
  
"The firefight was probably better than a movie."  
  
"You're probably ... thank you, again. I owe you ... well, something large in return."  
  
Diana cocked her head in amusement. "Bruce, would you have ever refused me anything?"  
  
"At least ... I can replace that dress."  
  
She looked up, an anticipatory glean in her eye. "A designer label?"  
  
"I can have one shipped from Paris." A pause. "Tailor made."  
  
"I'll see you at next week's meeting, if not sooner."  
  
Diana moved in, to deliver a small kiss on his cheek, out of courtesy rather than anything else. At the same time, a slight sound made Bruce turn his head to see if Alfred was there.  
  
Wether by accident or design, their lips touched. Melded.  
  
It lasted for half a second before they broke apart, looking at each other, wondering what had just happened.  
  
Wordlessly, Bruce's hand tentatively touched her face, while she clasped the back of his neck.  
  
Then they closed in again, making this action longer, deeper, now aware of the other's heartbeat, their breathing, the heat of their bodies.  
  
Diana was debating wether to ask what was going on, but at this point in time she had ceased to care.  
  
Bruce was wondering how his arms were reaching up and cradling the back of her head, but the instinctive part of him - long dormant - snuck up behind his rational self and clubbed it senseless.  
  
Diana found herself pushing against Bruce until they were leaning against the wall, their lips slowly moving against each other.  
  
Through the haze of the moment, Diana felt that his hands had reached her waist, and were slowly inching downwards.  
  
The Batman is trying to grope my butt.  
  
It was that realisation that forced her to break contact, the laughter welling out of her mouth.  
  
Bruce was more dazed than her by the turn of events, and tried to regain focus, wondering what the hell was happening now.  
  
"Sorry ... it's just..." She stopped, hiccupped, and looked at Bruce, grinning like a hyena.  
  
He was still looking at her, immaculate hair now sticking up in all directions, confused, but he was doing something unprecedented that stopped her urge to laugh.  
  
"Bruce...?"  
  
"Y...yes...?"  
  
"You're ... smiling."  
  
He reached to his face, like there was a piece of food to eliminate, but she grabbed his wrists. "No ... don't move..."  
  
Diana carefully examined his face, trying to memorise the expression - there was a very good chance that what she saw might never happen again. "I never knew you could smile like that." She let go. "Sorry about laughing like that ... I just realised who was doing what to me."  
  
Bruce nodded, his smile increasing. "I guess I've shattered enough preconceptions for one night."  
  
"Were you expecting..."  
  
"I was happy enough that you didn't walk out on me during the function."  
  
Diana brushed part of her hair back, trying to get her thoughts in order. "W ... obviously ... was that because you were ... and I was here...?"  
  
Bruce moved an inch closer. "Diana, if it was just that ... I mean, I don't want to sound conceited, but I've had a more than a few offers. Some of them are people I've met."  
  
"According to what I've heard at that party alone, you've fathered half of Gotham."  
  
"That's probably why I've been so tired lately."  
  
Diana grabbed his arm, a wry smile on her face. "If you've had so much practice..." she let go of him. "Great Hera, the Batman's cracking jokes."  
  
She looked at him, wondering what to do next.  
  
Bruce found himself speaking. "I didn't set out to do this, my main concern was making sure you didn't want to kill me afterwards ... but I ... I want to do this again. Be with you socially."  
  
Diana waited until she was certain he was finished until she replied.  
  
"Bruce, you're possibly one of the most noble men I've ever met. I've seen what you like the world to perceive you - either a rich himbo or a borderline fanatic. Now ... there's also a part of you that is repressed further than anything else I've ever seen before ... and I'd like to see more of that."  
  
Bruce felt his mouth stretching up again in that unfamiliar expression. "Do ... do you want to do this again? Go out on another date?"  
  
Diana shook her head. "I think I need to have my head examined." She looked up at Bruce, who was waiting, expectantly. "I get to choose the place next time."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"We'll discuss this later ... if I stay out any longer, Artemis will tear Gotham apart looking for me." Diana leaned in, kissing Bruce at the end of his nose. "Remember, the meeting or sooner."  
  
With that, she entered the tube, and disappeared in a haze of photons.  
  
***  
  
Bruce touched his lips, still uncertain what happened.  
  
He had gone out on a date with Wonder Woman.  
  
Not only had it not been a disaster, it turned out exceptionally well.  
  
Suddenly, Bruce heard Alfred moving down the stairs. He pushed up his cowl, absorbing the happier, and slightly stunned Bruce Wayne, becoming the Batman once again.  
  
Alfred stood, despite in his dressing gown, still the impeccable gentleman. "I take it that the evening was a success, sir?"  
  
"She didn't try to kill me afterwards." Stated Batman, sitting down at the console. "I'll re-fuel the car and update Gordon on the robbery. The boy in hospital will have to deliver a statement."  
  
"So you will be going out again?"  
  
"Patrol was incomplete, and the night's young. There's rumours of an Ecstasy haul coming in from Bludhaven."  
  
"Might I make a suggestion?"  
  
"As always."  
  
"Before I retire for tonight, I must point out, that to ensure the proper frightening visage that you employ to such effective use..."  
  
"Yes, Alfred?"  
  
"Remove the lipstick. It's simply not you."  
  
As Alfred left the cave, Batman turned to the monitor, to see the smear of Passion Red all over his lips and part of his chin.  
  
***  
  
Why did I write this?  
  
First off, I wanted to prove to myself that I could write a half-decent romance story (if you haven't noticed, this is my first) and also a proper comic book story (ditto first status)  
  
Second ... like a serpent from it's egg, this idea has insinuated itself in my head for years ... a mental purging, carthesis, call it what you will.  
  
Batman; control freak of the JLA has no life apart from his crusade against crime (unlike me, who has no life, period.) is overdue for his nervous breakdown and midlife crisis (if a broken back can only induce a few negative thoughts before rushing half-way across the world to rescue his doctor, that does not count). I thought that a fan-fiction attempt at a normal life might send a message to the Powers that Be at DC Comics (Fat F#%*in' chance!) to get him a woman, or a sharp shock that makes him realise that his life outside costume is non-existent.  
  
Wonder Woman; nun in a really tight outfit. She has less of a life than Bats does, even though she resembles the proverbial brick outhouse ... since her entire romantic life seems to consist of her hanging around Superman on the off-chance that Lois might shuffle off this mortal coil, I decided to throw a spanner in the works. Besides, heroines are not meant to be that pathetic.  
  
Since these two have no social life, I decided that they could get one together - besides, a few fairy tales have had Knights and Princesses living happily ever after, precedent does exist.  
  
  
  
Please send any and all feedback to atullberg@my-deja.com  
  



	2. Default Chapter Title

I didn't intend for this to be continued, but I received an astonishing amount of feedback, most of it asking for a sequel. So, graciously, I took some time from writing my multi-million dollar screenplay...  
  
(The Server apologises for this break in the message. The overwhelming laughter from friends, family, and complete strangers at the last comment has interrupted the author's ability to write, and service will recommence when he has retrieved his machete from under the house beside the decapitated bodies.)  
  
...as I was saying, I decided to write another, mainly because I need the practice, and I had a few ideas for Alfred. If you can't tell, I really like the character.  
  
Dedicated to Michael Gough, the last bastion of sanity within the dying days of the Batman movie franchise. It also helps that he appeared twice on Doctor Who, my favourite show.  
  
***  
  
The Unusual Mission; the Aftermath.  
  
By Adrian Tullberg.  
  
  
  
Synopsis; The Morning after. They're still trying to work out what happened. Unfortunately, so is everybody else.  
  
  
  
Bruce couldn't sleep, mentally replaying the last few minutes of his date. He got up, re-did his whole patrol over again, caught three amateur break-and-enters, suspended two midnight peepers by the ankles from a seven story drop, and intercepted four drink-drivers - although his method of 'ram them into the embankment' would probably be considered excessive. After that, he interrogated his usual gamut of snitches, and terrorised every inmate in Blackgate's Lifer Wing. When the sun came up, he engaged in a twenty mile run, finished with his usual punishing workout routine, which would kill any normal man. He managed five hours sleep.  
  
Diana slept badly. She got up twenty-three times in the night, pacing and muttering, until she started practicing kata, and various formations, ad nauseam until the sun tinged the horizon. Only then, did she sleep fitfully, muttering about getting cable or a Playstation.  
  
Although both were confused about what had happened between them, they had hoped that whatever it was could be dealt with quietly, and anonymously.  
  
Unfortunately, they lived in a telecommunications world, where information, given the incentive, can be distributed around the planet at the speed of light.  
  
Celebrity is possibly the foremost incentive on the planet.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Cassie Sandsmark opened her eyes, yawning blearily. She hoisted herself out of bed, stretching and scratching, heading for the bathroom, noting that Artemis was already gone. No matter how early Cassie got to bed, she never saw the warrior sitting all night at the foot of her bed, and would never catch the redheaded Amazon waking.  
  
Ten minutes later, she headed to the kitchen, to see her mother bustling around, as per normal...  
  
... and Superboy, Robin, Arrowette and Impulse seated at the table, tucking into a large array of pancakes.  
  
"What's going..."  
  
Her mother shushed her. "They wanted to see you about something, and I invited them for breakfast. Now get moving, remember it's a school day."  
  
Cassie glowered at her mother. She probably insisted that the members of Young Justice stay so that she could get a good look at Superboy ... it wasn't a secret that she had a little (yeah, right!) crush on him, and mom probably wanted to use the opportunity to give him the third degree.  
  
She sat down, pushing back her blonde hair, wishing that they had given her some time to get ready - nothing killed your image in front of your friends quicker than them seeing you in nothing but your oversized Care Bear T-shirt and fluffy bunny slippers.  
  
Artemis was sitting as far away from the new people as possible, slowly chewing on some fruit. Even though she kept on insisting on rising earlier than anybody else, Artemis was not, and never would be, a morning person.  
  
"Okay guys, what's so important?"  
  
"I wish I knew." Muttered Robin. "I spent all night patrolling, looking for carjackers. These three..." he jabbed a finger at the grinning Arrowette and Superboy, and the blurring Impulse "...said if I didn't know, then I should wait until you were told..."  
  
"Welll...." Said Arrowette, drowning her pancakes with what looked like half the bottle of syrup. "...we wanted to know what you thought about this..."  
  
With a dramatic flourish, Superboy threw down a copy of The Gotham Gazette, folded to what looked like a colour insert of the society pages. She saw Diana, wearing the kind-of-okay red dress she kept, even though Cassie kept on suggesting - okay, begging - for them to go on an incredible shopping trip. Diana was on the arm of some really gorgeous-looking guy, six foot plus and looked all muscle...  
  
Robin must have recognised him because he gave a strangled 'eep' and tightened his grip on the fork, making it shoot out of his glove and clatter on the ground.  
  
"I knew she didn't know!"  
  
"Hey, Rob, you know him?"  
  
"Tha ... that's ... he's Bruce ... Bruce Wayne." His expression was that of unabashed shock.  
  
Impulse stopped eating/drinking/searching the house for stuff to do and looked at Robin's face. He wondered how you could make your mouth move like that while not drooling - although it looked like he was going to soon.  
  
"Who's Bruce Wayne?" said Arrowette, using one of her bolts to spear five pancakes at once, and attempt to eat then like a shish kebab of batter.  
  
"Richestguyingothamwowhe'sreallyrichmaybeyou'regoingtogetmoneyCas!"  
  
"So, she went out once with Bruce Wayne, big deal." Stated Superboy, who was on his twelfth pancake.  
  
"So? He's rich, really sexy ... I mean, wouldn't you go out with him, if you were a girl?"  
  
"Cassie ... never, ever, ask a guy that question, okay?"  
  
"But..."  
  
"Never."  
  
"It's just..."  
  
"Never. Ever."  
  
"Don't you..."  
  
Superboy made a 'zip it' gesture, making Cassie sit back, annoyed.  
  
Robin picked up the newspaper, and started scanning through the article, feeling a little numb.  
  
His dad saying that he was going to get married didn't cause this kind of reaction. Then again, his father had been going out with Dana for a while. Perhaps he'd better call Bruce...  
  
Then again, better not. He still hadn't quite told him about his relationship with the Spoiler, complicated as that was. Besides ... if there was anything to it, he'd tell him, wouldn't he?  
  
Robin really hoped Alfred would clue him in.  
  
A red-and-white blur suddenly started rifling through the kitchen, Helena Sandsmark could only watch as Impulse, super-speedster, video-game fanatic, and poster boy for Attention Deficit Disorder started ruining last weekend's cleaning frenzy.  
  
Robin's voice was muffled as his face was nearly touching the table surface. "Impulse - put everything, and I mean everything back where you found it."  
  
The blur stopped, revealing a fourteen-year-old with an incredible shock of hair and enormous feet. The blur appeared again - and the kitchen was back as it was before.  
  
"Maybe she's doing it for his money." Stated Superboy, peering over Robin's shoulder.  
  
"Kon! She's a Princess!" snapped Cassie. "She doesn't need money!"  
  
"I heard that she had to work in a Taco joint."  
  
"That was years ago! Before you were born, okay!"  
  
"Where's Bart?"  
  
Suddenly he appeared, with five plastic shopping bags full of...  
  
"HeywhowantsPringles?"  
  
"You've been raiding the petty cash tin again?" muttered Robin, wondering wether it was worth the effort of re-hiding the strongbox every week if Impulse was always going to find and raid it within seconds.  
  
"Who can eat Pringles for breakfast?" muttered Arrowette, pulling a face.  
  
Artemis had been surreptitiously reading over the shoulder of Robin along with Superboy. She left the kitchen without a word.  
  
"Hey, look, I don't know what this is about, but I'm definitely going to ask Diana when I see her next. I promise to keep you guys clued in, okay?"  
  
"Maybe you shouldn't." stated Helena, briskly entering the room while checking her handbag. "If Diana wants to tell you about her private life, she'll tell you in her own time. In the meantime, don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong." She looked at her watch. "Unless you want to fly to school, you'd better get moving."  
  
"I like flying to school." Stated Cassie, with as much dignity as she can muster. "No rush hour, great views, and no carjacking. Tell her how dangerous carjacking is, Robin."  
  
"Not to mention the enormous prestige factor in giving your friends rides to school, Mrs. Sandsmark. You have no idea how many favours you can rack up just by giving a five-minute ride. Better than a ton of Pokemons." Added Superboy.  
  
"She takes the bus like everybody else. Now get moving."  
  
Cassie grumbled all the way to her room. Superboy and Arrowette got up. "Er, we've got to get going, Mrs Sandsmark..."  
  
Suddenly the red and white blur span around the table, taking every plate and utensil. Water was already waiting, and agitated to near boiling point. The dishes were vibrated until the dirt fell off, the resulting kinetic energy steaming off the water as they were placed in the rack. Impulse stood in the middle of the room, grinning inanely.  
  
"ThanksforthepancakesMrsSandsmarkI'veneverhadthembefore." With that, he zoomed off.  
  
Arrowette, Superboy and Robin made their goodbyes as they left, Helena noting that they were unusually rushed.  
  
Once they were outside and heading for their outsize motorcycle, Superboy whispered in Robin's ear. "What do you think Bart's done?"  
  
"I don't know, don't want to know, but I bet she's going to find out any second..."  
  
An enraged shriek enemated from the house.  
  
The three teenage heroes ran like hell.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Artemis shook Diana awake, roughly.  
  
The Amazon Princess muttered as she slowly awoke. "....I will not take any more questions on the purported resemblance between me and Lara Croft ..."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Eh?" Diana's mind slowly booted up. "Oh. Sorry. Recurring dream." Her jaw cracked wide open as she yawned. "Remind me to talk to J'onn about that."  
  
"You did not tell me."  
  
"It's just a silly dream..."  
  
"Not the dream!"  
  
"Then what?"  
  
The redhead's voice was as cold as a blade's edge. "That you would be seen cavorting with Wayne all night."  
  
Artemis produced a newspaper - she used some of the little money hoarded away to purchase the same copy of the Gotham Gazette she had seen, and opened it roughly to the society pages.  
  
Diana rubbed her eyes as she read the paper. The shot was when she had turned to the other side of the paparazzi, half-blinded by the strobing flashes.  
  
"They didn't get my best side." She stated blankly.  
  
"I'm not concerned about your appearance - your 'image' is the issue at hand."  
  
Diana gave Artemis a pleading look. "Is there any chance of breakfast?"  
  
"You are seen as nothing more than the ... the attachment of the rich elite of this nation's capital of crime! An accessory! A symbol of..."  
  
"I hope you've finished." Stated Diana, her anger beginning to rise. "Let's analyse this report, shall we? Starting with the banner ... ah yes; WAYNE AND THE WONDER. Completely denigrates me and my mission. Not to mention the body of the article itself ... 'a bastion of charm and grace' ... 'a breath of fresh air within the hallowed halls of Gotham society' ... 'Wayne was the most fortunate man in the city'. The damage to us is irreversible, we have to return to Themyscira immediately."  
  
Artemis snatched the paper from Diana, walking around the large circular bed. "We can only hope that some new scandal breaks out quickly, distracting the media from your little flight of fancy."  
  
Diana got out of bed, intent on finding water. "Possibly."  
  
"What do you mean, possibly? When the agents of the media find that you are not pursuing Wayne, they will find another fresh scandal, and devote their energies to investigating Bill Clinton once again. The way Man's World works is very simple once you..." she trailed off. "You only were intending to be seen with Wayne that one time, weren't you?"  
  
Diana shifted away from Artemis' fresh glare. "That was the plan."  
  
Artemis slowly stalked up to Diana, fingers curling into sharp spikes of bone and sinew. "But now..."  
  
"I found that there was ... something besides what I had seen before."  
  
Artemis was virtually nose to nose with Diana, expression blank. "Did he seduce you?"  
  
"No." stated Diana. "There was no attempt."  
  
You wouldn't have minded if he tried, would you? A little imp spoke in her ear.  
  
Artemis' voice dropped several degrees. "Perhaps he is laying a trap for you to fall into." Her voice became a hiss. "You already have one foot in the pit."  
  
The Amazon warrior turned around, intent on exiting. "It's obvious you're too emotionally involved to think straight. I will deal with Wayne myself. You can thank me later."  
  
Artemis attempting to intimidate Batman. However, if she was intent on just more than scaring Bruce...  
  
"Listen to me Artemis - what is going on between me and ... Bruce Wayne..." she was still trying to come to terms with the situation "... remains that; between us. You will not interfere. Physically, mentally, spiritually, directly, indirectly."  
  
Artemis stopped, then looked at her sister, exasperated. "Very well."  
  
"Swear it."  
  
Her expression turned to incredulousness. "Are you mad?!?"  
  
"Hardly."  
  
Artemis tried to stare down Diana ... but failed. "Very well. You have my word that if that oaf hurts you ... in any manner possible, I will not intervene ... unless asked."  
  
"Good." Diana started changing into her uniform. "Bruce Wayne is not an oaf, however."  
  
"I shall retain my opinion until evidence to the contrary presents itself." Stated Artemis.  
  
"He finds me ... intriguing."  
  
"You have only proven he has eyes. Why should you court the attentions of one who only has his wealth to proclaim?" Artemis started stalking back and forth across the chambers. "The 'Superman' ... I would have thought that on 'Man's World', he was the only potential warrior."  
  
Diana took a breath as she fastened her belt. "You think like Maxima."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Never mind. Superman has found his mate. A long time ago."  
  
"Ah. You wish to make him jealous by publicly courting Wayne." A tactic Artemis often saw on 'Ricki Lake'.  
  
Diana closed her eyes and counted to ten ... slowly. "Can you entertain the possibility that I find Bruce ... potentially suitable, without some ulterior motive?"  
  
"Considering what I know of him, not for any reason whatsoever. Diana, he is not a suitable mate."  
  
"Maybe you're right." Diana stated. She walked towards the armory, Artemis following. "Maybe he's totally unsuitable for me. The fact remains..." she suddenly turned, and rounded on the redhead. "...I don't know, one way or the other. I saw something in him last night that might mean 'yes'. And I intend to pursue that possibility."  
  
"Just because..."  
  
"A hunter does not abandon a trail. She pursues her game until she finally corners ... and traps it."  
  
Comprehension dawned for the single-minded warrior. "I find it hard to believe that you can find a quality in such a...retard."  
  
Diana placed her hand over her mouth to cover the laughter beginning to well up. "I'm ... I'm beginning to wonder ... about your vocabulary, Artemis."  
  
The warrior turned away in a huff. Waiting for Cassie, being left alone for hours every day, and having an animosity with machinery that bordered on a blood feud left her with very little to do but become intimately aquatinted with the wonders of daytime television. If Diana would not appreciate her efforts to acclimatise to 'Man's World', so be it.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Alfred entered the large house, locking the doors behind him. After getting Tim prepared for school, he would travel back to Wayne Manor to perform his general duties. Since the great Batman could not even touch an oven or a washing machine without a major disaster occurring, he rediscovered the joys of cross-city commuting and drive time radio.   
  
Since Master Bruce spent most of the day sleeping off a hard night of terrorising the criminal community, Alfred didn't see much of him unless his presence was specifically required.  
  
As Alfred entered the study, the sight of his employer sitting down, facing the grounds, made him frown. "Good morning sir."  
  
Bruce looked automatically at a clock. "Is it?"  
  
Alfred nodded, bustling around the study. "Master Tim read the papers this morning. He's very curious as to what happened concerning your ... occasion with Miss Diana. Although he's trying very hard not to show it."  
  
A dry chuckle from the figure in the chair. "I'd like to know myself."  
  
"Seems fairly obvious to me, sir."  
  
"Is it?" Bruce got up, and started pacing back and forth. "We both admitted to being lonely, with nothing but our missions to keep us occupied. Maybe it was the moment ... or ... maybe she has a power to attract males to her that I haven't found out about yet." Finished Bruce, noting that this was probably the lamest excuse he had ever given in history.  
  
If Alfred ever shared his thoughts, he didn't show it. "In my experience, it's a quality, rather than an artificial ability, that only exceptional women possess."  
  
Bruce turned around, then slumped into the overstuffed chair, more confused than ever before - even the Riddler's worst didn't cause him this much trouble. At least there was a guarantee of a solution at the end.  
  
Alfred placed his duster down, and sat across from Bruce, looking him directly in the eye.  
  
"In my experience, one night out and a kiss goodnight does not indicate either a tragedy or a happy ending." He gave a tight smile. "It does, however, mean that you have an opportunity to find out, one way or the other."  
  
"Should I ... do I have the right?"  
  
"One of the many excuses...my apologies, reasons, you have given me for not pursuing a woman is that your lifestyle prevented her living in relative safety. It appears that someone who can trade blows with Mr. Kent is not easily intimidated, or killed."  
  
"Even so..."  
  
"Master Bruce..." Alfred's gentle tone was more direct than a parade ground bellow. "Not only is she a grown woman, but an accomplished warrior. The question is not can she, but will she?"  
  
Alfred got up, and took the tray. "Perhaps you're reading too much into it ... she may have already decided that being courted by an overprotective individual with paranoid tendencies just isn't worth the bother, and have decided to find someone less zealous in his outlook. Perhaps that nice Mr. Curry would be interested?"  
  
"If you're looking for a polar opposite to me, then Arthur is not it. You'd be better off with..."  
  
"Very well, Master Bruce, let me put it to you as simply as possible: Is she worth pursuing?"  
  
Bruce looked up at his surrogate father; with as close an expression of desperation that Alfred had ever seen. "Well ... yes. But..."  
  
"I suggest you replace that dress for starters. The number of the designer is on the table. About to jet off to Paris, but might be agreeable to commute to Gateway for the right sum - and the chance to dress another celebrity. Next to it is my best guess as to her measurements..." Alfred was, when he wanted to be, more ruthless than Shiva. "...I might be off by an inch or two, it's been a while since I had to attire a woman." A brief pause. "Almost as long as you've gotten your hands on one, I dare say."  
  
Alfred left the room, knowing nothing killed the dramatic impact quicker than somebody stealing the last word. Besides, he had laundry to do.  
  
Bruce looked at the notepad, then numbly started punching in the numbers. He almost slammed the phone down when someone answered, but made his request. The bartering and agreement were done on automatic pilot.  
  
This wasn't the first time he'd done this. When a society belle admitted a love for the Stones, Bruce bought and had delivered a vinyl copy of their first album the very next day. Dumped her the next week.  
  
Treat it like all the other times you've got a girl something. It's not a concern.  
  
Oh, this isn't like the other times, is it? She knows your secret; the others had no clue whatsoever, just as you wanted them to. You've fought alongside her; the others just played tennis. Most importantly, you've shared something with this one, but kept the others at arms distance.  
  
You never thought she'd be more than an ally, at best. Now your relationship has radically changed.  
  
Bruce sat down again, looking at the daylight playing around the grounds - for him, an alien sight.  
  
Forget propriety. Forget what J'onn, Arthur and even what Clark will think and say.  
  
Is she worth pursuing?  
  
***  
  
Wonder Woman flew down, and entered the Federal Building below her, entering through the roof exit. Ever since she'd taken up residence in Gateway, the UN had occupied a floor, keeping a small staff there to keep her updated on world events, and a place to store her teleport tube. She checked in there once a day to get the latest intelligence reports. Although they weren't as accurate as ... say, Clark scanning the planet from low orbit, they gathered the occasional tidbit of data that might become useful later.  
  
Just as she was about to close the door, she heard; "Hey, Diana! Wait for me!"  
  
She sighed, keeping the door open as Cassie flew in. "How was school?"  
  
"A direct violation of the laws of physics - it blew and sucked at the same time. Why didn't you tell me you had a date?"  
  
The Amazon and her charge walked into the offices, the three secretaries, the army intelligence liaison and the DEO officer stood up, giving their various greetings. They presented their briefs to Diana - consisting of handing over written reports, which she would read, sign, and hand back (most of the material was rated top secret) while they witnessed the affair.  
  
Cassie, not old enough to vote, let alone hold a security rating, was gently escorted to the other side of the office, where she pouted while watching Oprah Winfrey.  
  
Since it was a slow day, it took Diana twenty minutes to get through the material. She walked over to Cassie. "You were saying something?"  
  
Cassie muted the volume eagerly. "Yeah! Bruce Wayne, rich hunk, and you didn't tell me?"  
  
Diana spotted two of the secretaries and the DEO officer stop what they were doing and try very hard not to look like they were eavesdropping. The army liaison had gone to the bathroom as soon as she'd finished with his material.  
  
The elder woman took a deep sigh. Although she had agreed to preserve Bruce's identity with a pre-arranged cover story, she didn't like lying to her protege. "Very well ... before No Man's Land, we met when he was lobbying Washington to give Federal funding. Wanted me to add my public support. I told him that if I were to be put under oath, my testimony wouldn't be flattering. Then ... out of the blue, he contacted me, and asked me to this charity thing."  
  
Cassie grinned, bouncing on her chair like a maniac. "Rich people, great food, celebrities?"  
  
"Boring snobs, passible champagne, and legends in their own minds."  
  
"Bummer." Stated Cassie. "What about the guy?"  
  
Diana leaned back in her chair, smiling faintly. She noticed the eavesdroppers moving in closer, and lowered her voice accordingly. "Better than I thought."  
  
Cassie leaned in, using the same low tone - Artemis had taught her that a whisper could carry as loud as a shout. "Cute?"  
  
"Oh yes." Diana wondered if thinking of the Batman in that context was grounds for being committed.  
  
Cassie's voice got lower, but the grin on her face grew wider. "Good kisser?"  
  
Diana leaned in, waiting until the desperation on Cassie's face was as transparent as glass. "Definitely."  
  
Cassie's grin grew slyer in nature. "Did you..." she made a gesture using her right middle finger and a circle of her left fist.  
  
Diana's eyebrows raised at this. "No we didn't-" she mimicked the gesture "-I wouldn't-" gesture again "-on the first date, and even if I-" gesture again "-why should I tell you?"  
  
Cassie gave her a downcast pout that had gotten her out of more trouble with her mother than both of them cared to remember. "I'll be your best friend?"  
  
"Not good enough."  
  
The DEO officer coughed gently, standing over the two. "Ma'am?"  
  
"Yes, Alice?"  
  
"There's a ... person here to see you. Says it's urgent. Doesn't seem like your usual fan, and isn't packing."  
  
Diana looked as Cassie, who gave her a why-are-you-blaming-me shrug. The two walked over to the entrance to the office, to a small lobby, where a small, thin man with pinched features, red-dyed hair, and thick glasses was waiting impatiently.  
  
When he saw Diana, he stood up, and grabbed her hand. "Miss Diana of Themyscira?"  
  
"So it seems."  
  
"I am Alfonse. Designer."  
  
"Designer of..."  
  
Alfonse produced a leather bound folder and opened it with a flourish. Inside were inked sketches of women in various dresses. He rapidly flipped the pages, producing photos of women wearing the pencilled creations. "I do not produce clothes, I create art. Masterpieces which complement and enhance the feminine figure. Each one especially crafted for each unique figure." His hands accompanied his words like darting birds.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in promoting..."  
  
"Hah!" This sudden bark made the two jump. "I don't handle the ... promotional thing. Very shabby, very shabby indeed. I wash my hands of it. I have been commissioned by a Mr. Bruce Wayne to create a garment for you."  
  
Diana blinked. When Bruce mentioned replacing her dress, she didn't think he'd take care of it this quickly. "Really?"  
  
Cassie was leafing through the folder. "You did this one? That Naomi's wearing?" She turned the page again. "This one too? I love it!"  
  
Alfonse glanced at the indicated pages. "You like that one? I never really liked that one myself, not one of my better works. Now then..." he produced a camera and a tape measure. "...whoever got your measurements was pretty good, but I'm just going to make sure. Then I'll make the dress ... Mr. Wayne was specific in something in red."  
  
"Oh yes ... I spilled something on the last red one." Rather, a liquor store robber threw vodka on it and tried to set her alight.  
  
"I was thinking..." Alfonse produced a sketchbook, and flipped it to a page. "Something along these lines. Since you super-people prefer the skin-tight, flowing cape garments, I thought we'd start with this..."  
  
Diana took the book, and looked at a pencilled sketch of herself, wearing a gorgeous garment, which consisted of a skin-tight undergarment, with a pleated shawl on her shoulder blades, and flowing to her wrists. The effect seemed to combine a flowing Greek robe and a Versase catwalk creation.  
  
Diana and Cassie looked at each other. "Wow."  
  
"It looks ... quite incredible."  
  
"Well, that's the preliminary sketch, of course. Most of the women I work on aren't as ... full bodied as you, dear." Alfonse made a meaningful nod to Diana's chest, then his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Some of them? Peas on an ironing board." He began to make quick, deft measurements, darting like a mosquito, Diana feeling quite distant from the whole arrangement.  
  
"Does this mean you're going to out with him again?" stated Cassie, flicking through the folder. "Hey, how about the neck from this on that dress...?"  
  
"Well, we did leave the option open..."  
  
"Go for it." Stated Alfonse, head near her waist, taking her outside leg. "Maybe he'll get you another dress. Have you ever considered toning down the arms a little? I mean, the look I'm thinking of does not go well with expanded triceps."  
  
His head was suddenly caught in a vice-like grip. "Afraid not. Sorry." Stated Diana, cheerfully. Her expression gave no indication that she was an ounce of pressure away from cutting off this man's airflow.  
  
"No problem." Wheezed the designer, vision greying.  
  
"Are you sure?" He was beginning to loose sensation in his feet.  
  
"I could do something with the shoulders instead..." The hand was mercifully released.  
  
"That's good to know."  
  
***  
  
Batman descended into the Cave, in full costume. He intended to start cataloguing the latest influx of organised crime into Gotham, and worked best while properly attired.  
  
A light suddenly began flashing on the console, stating that the teleporter had been activated. Immediately, a hand slapped a control sealing off the Cave from everything down to stray electrons, and the movement sensor log activated. He frowned - no movement from that area, or any other, apart from the bats. Somebody was waiting in the tube itself.  
  
Batman practically flew down, wondering what happened ... his teleporter would only accept a complex signal command to activate the dimensional warp generators, which Steel updated regularly from Batman's own security designs.  
  
Those codes were only known to ... wait.  
  
He hadn't changed the codes that Diana used last night.  
  
Batman slowed down, and saw a small envelope lying on the floor of the tube. Gingerly, he picked it up, noting that no visible tampering was evident.  
  
He opened it with a small knife from his utility belt, and retrieved the single card-sized note.  
  
  
  
---  
  
Thanks for the dress.  
  
Tonight. Eight. Codes at the bottom. Take a casual change.  
  
D.  
  
---  
  
  
  
Batman lowered the note, the ghost of a smile playing across his face. He then frowned, slightly, then ran the note for chemical traces, handwriting and fingerprint analysis. He then performed an atmosphere scan of the immediate area surrounding the teleporter down the microscopic level, and then ran a gamut of tests on the envelope. When the results convinced him he was safe, only then did he relax.  
  
Yes, he was paranoid. However, he was still in the game when many other heroes were either dead, burnt out, or retired.  
  
***  
  
The room for the teleporter lit up, indicating it was in use.  
  
Tim, a young security guard taking the night shift until his novel was finished, got up, rubbing his hands. When Wonder Woman got a teleporter tube set up here, he got to meet a bunch of celebrities; Flash, Martian Manhunter, Plastic Man was a really funny guy - even met Superman once.  
  
He opened the secure door, adjusting his tie. "Welcome to Gateway ... urrgg...."  
  
Tim stared at what was only considered a story told when you really wanted to scare your friends late at night. The Batman walked slowly out of the tube, sweeping past the security guard, blank gaze seeing nothing and everything.  
  
"Er ... sir? Is there ... I..."  
  
"Nobody else besides me." The gravelly voice intoned, a delivery that even Eastwood couldn't copy. "Tell nobody else."  
  
"I ... yes sir. Anything you say." Time suddenly turned, and retrieved a notebook. "Can I have your..."  
  
The Batman had disappeared. "Guess not."  
  
***  
  
Batman had found an unoccupied office with a cut-price lock. Hanging behind his back, concealed by his cape, was a small canvas bag. He opened it while ripping off his costume, the change taking place in seconds.  
  
It was Batman who had to make the teleporter trip, since Batman owned the machine that received the message. Now Bruce Wayne exited the building, wearing tan slacks, brown light jacket and lace-ups. His costume and weapons were in the bag, hung over his shoulder. It was, as suspected, abysmally easy to exit the Government building.  
  
As he stood outside in the warm night, he wondered what the hell Diana had planned.  
  
"You're early."  
  
Bruce turned, to see Diana. She was wearing a loose red blouse, old jeans ... although they hugged the right places exceptionally well ... and sneakers that had seen better days around 1995.  
  
The street outside the building was deserted and traffic was light. The two walked slowly towards each other and stopped just a foot apart, under a streetlight.  
  
Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile, but failing. "Diana ... ah ... how are you?"  
  
Diana was rubbing her hand over a leather carry-all hanging off her shoulder, not quite meeting Bruce's gaze. "Oh, I'm fine. Can't complain. You?'  
  
"Caught up on some filing ... played golf. Everybody's asking about you."  
  
"That's good ... " There was an uncomfortable pause between the two. "We're doing it again."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
"Not talking ... we want to say something, but we don't want to say anything that could hurt the other, so we're just trying to fill the gaps in the conversation. And that ... that lack of action will make things worse."  
  
Bruce looked at Diana, not quite knowing what to do with his hands. In his pockets, moving around, crossed in front. And why was he fixating on his hands in the first place? "This is getting ridiculous, isn't it? We're ... we're grown adults ... we've done things that..."  
  
"I know." A pause. "Bruce, can I ask you something and can you only take it in the spirit it was intended? A straightforward query and response?"  
  
He opened his arms slightly. "Always."  
  
"When you ... we ... did you regret what we did? At all?"  
  
"I ... I analysed what we did for nearly a full day. I questioned my motives and yours. I prodded, probed, dissected, and debated. What I never did was regret."  
  
A brief smile started to creep across Diana's face. "That ... that sounds a lot like what I did."  
  
Bruce scanned the area again. "Do you want to find a restaurant ... a diner or something?"  
  
Realisation flooded Diana's face. "Gods ... I knew there was a reason I asked you here. It's about five blocks walk from here..."  
  
***  
  
Diana led Bruce through the city until they passed through a alleyway and found themselves in the middle of looked like a large street carnival.  
  
Squeezing past a cotton candy vendor and someone who was selling stuffed Pokemons, they were surrounded by a mass of humanity. Live bands were playing, children were laughing - or vomiting due to an overdose of junk food and carnival rides.  
  
Diana leaned in close and spoke ... shouted really ... into Bruce's ear. "It's a local festival. Raises money for street children."  
  
Bruce took a mental snapshot of the area. "Haven't been to one of these before ... unofficially, that is."  
  
"It'll be a first for both of us then."  
  
Diana held out her right hand. Not quite understanding at first, Bruce hesitated before sliding his hand into hers. Quite larger than her own, the warmth it's presence generated was somehow reassuring.  
  
The Princess of Themyscira and The Dark Knight entered the crowd, quite indistinguishable from the rest of humanity.  
  
***  
  
Artemis looked around the WonderDome impatiently. "Where is she?"  
  
Chiron looked placidly at Artemis. "I believe she arranged to spend some time with Bruce Wayne, my lady."  
  
Artemis' hands shook as she repressed the urge to kill. "Did she say where?"  
  
The centaur gave a slight anticipatory smile. "No. She also said if you came looking for her, I should relay this message: 'I already have a mother'."  
  
The redhead convulsively grasped a nearby axe handle, and stroked it's comforting weight, thinking.  
  
She probably could track down Diana and the idiot easily - but confronting them now would probably result in an encounter with her sister that would be fatal. Literally.  
  
Besides, she didn't make any categorical promise about confronting Wayne when he was alone...  
  
According to the news reports, he spent most of his time plotting his evils against the innocent in his mansion, near the outer regions of Gotham City.  
  
"When Diana returns, tell her I am making a small journey, Chiron."  
  
***  
  
Diana and Bruce walked along the various attractions, looking around but not really noticing anything. Diana was wondering what Artemis would do if she knew that she was going on another date in less than a week, and if she could be persuaded not to resort to a violent solution.  
  
Bruce was wondering if he could get away with putting his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"C'mon, try your skill! Just five for a dollar, win a prize for your girl, a toy for your kids. C'mon, just five for a dollar..."  
  
Bruce automatically tracked the source of the voice - a try-your-skill booth. His slowing down jolted Diana out of her reverie of reasonable arguments to present to her comrade in arms. "Bruce...?"  
  
She saw a teenaged couple attempting to knock down three bottles with old baseballs.  
  
"Bottom bottles are weighted." Muttered Bruce.  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"I mean, what's the point...?"  
  
The girl whooped as her boyfriend finally knocked over the bottles, the vendor handing over a medium-sized teddy bear. She gave a cheer - well, more of a squeal - and clutched her boyfriend around the neck, face lit up with joy...  
  
"One please." Called Bruce, reaching for his wallet.  
  
The vendor looked at this new customer, well heeled, worked out, teeth whitened. Best pigeon he'd seen all week. "It's five for a dollar, just..."  
  
Bruce took a baseball, tossed it up experimentally to test it's weight and balance, then threw it using all the power in his abdomen/waist/shoulder/bicep/wrist in a single, flowing movement. The same move that sent weighted projectiles spinning around distant flagpoles, cracked apart the pile of bottles packed with five pounds of powdered lead. One on the bottom received the worst of the blow and cracked cleanly apart.  
  
Bruce took the largest bear, a brown fluffy fellow, from the side of the stand, while the vendor looked on numbly. "I said, I only needed one."  
  
Diana looked at him, head cocked to her side, frowning slightly. "Show off."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"And why did you do that, Mr. Wayne?"  
  
"I wanted..." he hadn't felt like since Alfred was taller than him. "....to impress my girl." He numbly held out the bear towards her.  
  
Diana's lips perked up slightly, then took the bear, examining it. "I've never owned a bear before."  
  
They started walking again, as she examined the toy, turning it around and about. "It seems to be a prerequisite for women to own at least one stuffed toy. Cassie has three, even Helena owns an old motheaten frog in the back of her closet. Somehow, Themyscira bypassed the whole toy animal concept."  
  
"That might be the next growth industry; importing stuffed toys to the Amazon nation."  
  
Diana gave Bruce a quick glance at this. "I can barely see my mother holding a furry bear while she sleeps." She suddenly looked away from her examination of the bear. "I can't begin to imagine what she'd do if she knew what I was doing here with you."  
  
Bruce shrugged slightly. "I take it she wouldn't approve...?"  
  
"I ... I don't know." She looked at Bruce ruefully. "On Themyscira, you train, you duel, you live forever. Rarely has anything changed. You'd think you'd be able to predict people there. But my mother still has the ability to surprise me." She ruffled the head of the bear absently. "I know that if she ever found out about you..."  
  
"A challenge to fight to the death?"  
  
"She'd think that would be too quick. What about..." she quickly bit back her words. "Oh. Right. Sorry."  
  
"I think ... they'd be honoured to know you." Bruce's expression was fastened on a distant point, far away. "I ... I've tried to keep them alive. Their memory. Honour their lives..."  
  
"...and justify their deaths?"  
  
"Always." Bruce placed his hands in his pockets, expression tightening ... Diana could see the Bat beginning to emerge, in his voice, his posture, his actions.  
  
She held his arm, making him stop. "Bruce, do you know why I wanted to come here?"  
  
"I showed you my place, now you have to show me yours?"  
  
"Yes ... and I wanted to take away your excuse."  
  
"My what...?"  
  
"Gotham. That city created both the rich idiot and the Batman. They're two masks you hide behind. Nobody knows that Bruce Wayne is on the other side of the country, and over here, Batman is a scary campfire story." She clasped his arm. "You've got no choice but to be yourself."  
  
"You might like the rich idiot better."  
  
"Darkseid himself hasn't encouraged self-injury more than the rich idiot. The Batman uses theatrics to terrify criminals. You..." she broke off, collecting her thoughts. "...you miss your parents. You talk to Alfred. You fought for a city that nobody cares about ... and you won me my first bear." Her mouth tightened slightly. "I didn't kiss the idiot or the Batman."  
  
Bruce didn't know what to say ... he was having a hard time connecting his mouth with his brain. Finally, he got words to come out of his mouth.  
  
"Thank you. For believing in me."  
  
"Believing in you is the easy part ... but you're still what Helena would call a 'fixer-upper'."  
  
Bruce glanced sideways, expression neutral. "I've been called worse."  
  
They began their journey again, heading into the middle of the street. They suddenly saw a mass of tables and benches laid out under a large awning. Surrounding the tables were several food stalls.  
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"Are you buying?"  
  
Bruce quickly located and bought two large slices of pizza accompanied by bottled water. They found a table with vacant seating opposite each other, next to a couple in their sixties.  
  
"This is the second time you've bought me a meal involving junk food, Bruce."  
  
He looked around ... there was one stall which sold what seemed to be slabs of lasagne, but that was crowded. "Doesn't seem to be anything else here."  
  
"Next time, we go to Denny's."  
  
Bruce looked at her, a slightly amused expression on his face. "Does that mean there's going to be a next time?"  
  
"A girl has to eat." She took a large bite of the food, and grimaced. "This is more oil than meat."  
  
Bruce took a bite, chewing contemplatively. "I've had worse."  
  
"Alfred said something about your dietary habits." Diana grinned, slightly. "Haven't you heard of TV dinners? I lived on those for months before I finally learned how to operate ovens and hotplates."  
  
Bruce spread his arms wide. "I haven't got the knack of ... cooking."  
  
Diana's eyes widened at this. "You can't cook?"  
  
"Cook, wash, operate a microwave ... basically, anything Alfred can do."  
  
Diana took a swig of water. "Finally, you admit to not doing something as well as the rest of us."  
  
Bruce frowned. "I'm the first to admit that you can outdo anything I can physically."  
  
"I was referring to something normal." Her expression became sly. "Even Kyle can cook better than you can."  
  
"Do you have to rub it in?"  
  
"Oh yes." She pushed the remaining pizza away. "Did Alfred ever try to teach you?"  
  
"Tried. Once. Two fire alarms and three Armanis destroyed. In the end he muttered something about 'job security' and he's never tried again." Bruce took her pizza, his finished, and started on it. "Once you get used to it, this isn't bad..."  
  
Diana snatched it out of his grasp. "We are going to teach you to fend for yourself, Mr. Wayne."  
  
Bruce couldn't help but smile at this. "Alfred can cook English, French, and Oriental cuisine, he's single-handedly arranged fund-raisers for hundreds and has invented a method of sewing kevlar. How can you succeed where he's failed?"  
  
Diana gave him a stern look. "I doubt that a English butler can offer the same kind of..." Bruce suddenly felt fingernails raking along the inside of his thigh. "...incentives I can for success."  
  
The sensation vanished as quickly as it arrived. She hadn't categorically promised anything...  
  
Bruce reminded himself to get Alfred to give him a refresher course.  
  
***  
  
Alfred Pennyworth looked at his new visitor.  
  
A very tall woman, slightly taller than him. Muscular enough to intimidate Master Dick. Redhead.  
  
"May I help you, madam?"  
  
"Are you the servant of Bruce Wayne?" Her accent was virtually identical to Miss Diana's. This must be her ally, the one who replaced her briefly.  
  
"Indeed I am."  
  
"I will wait for Wayne to arrive here. I have business that must be conducted face to face."  
  
"I see." Alfred turned around. "The sitting room has a television and a full bar..."  
  
"I will feel more comfortable if I can see you - at all times." The Amazon was very close to Alfred now, trying to intimidate him.  
  
The man who taught the Batman how to make his dramatic entries and exits merely took her efforts in stride. There were seven different ways to contact Master Bruce despite Artemis' efforts, and even if he couldn't, he always checked the monitors within the house before entering from the Cave.  
  
"I was planning on scrubbing the kitchen. It's not a very exciting task."  
  
The look on Artemis' face stated that she would endure a wait in hell itself in completion of her mission. Alfred sighed and got out the Pledge.  
  
***  
  
"And these are called...?"  
  
"Toffee Apples. Haven't had one in a while. Alfred makes ... made them for Dick, Jason and Tim."  
  
Diana tried one experimentally. The brittle but slightly soft exterior gave way and mixed with the juices of the fruit inside.  
  
"Itsh..." she chewed and swallowed. "It's good."  
  
Bruce was looking at his mournfully. "Alfred makes far better ones."  
  
"You cheerfully eat a substandard pizza but complain about apples covered in sugar..." Diana saw the look on his face and recognised it. Trouble.  
  
She covertly looked where he was staring ... just a girl, a teenaged Latina, and some boy, well-dressed, college age, near a cotton candy machine.  
  
Bruce looked down, apparently rapt in his toffee apple, his lips not moving. "Their clothing are from different ends of the social spectrum..."  
  
Diana glanced again. Yes, his looked like designer labels whereas hers were probably from Target's stocktake clearance ... hardly a red flag though.  
  
"...and those five on your left are looking for somebody. At least one has a gun, possibly a .38 revolver. Chances are she's the girl or former girlfriend of one of those youths and she's trying to move up in the world."  
  
Diana scanned again - damn it, yes, five, all decked out in the same black-and-red motif, the leader with an angry/frantic look she'd seen before on a man who'd been holding his ex-wife and her lover hostage.  
  
Bruce's expression was that of the Bat again. "How long would it take you to get into costume?"  
  
Diana looked at her bag. "If I can find a place, about one and a half min..."  
  
"Too long." Stated Bruce, getting up. Already the group had seen the girl and the college kid. "Protect the bystanders." He started ambling over casually towards the cotton candy machine.  
  
Diana quickly took her bracelets from her bag and snapped them on while getting up. She got towards the edge of the crowds nearest the youths.  
  
Standard procedure - one takes the enemy, the other guards the civilians. Normally, in an urban situation, just showing up in costume was enough to make them give up or run for it, but the gang had already seen the mis-matched couple, and was heading towards them.  
  
Bruce, however, had slipped into 'idiot' mode, and crashed straight into the leader, confirming he had a loaded pistol and a knife in his right and left pants pockets. "Ooops. Sorry."  
  
The boy looked at Bruce, then pushed past - or tried to, he had 'accidentally' grabbed the aggressor's arm and swung them around, almost crashing into the others behind him.  
  
The couple was frozen at the sight, until a pair of hands clasped their shoulders. They turned to see Diana behind them, beckoning them to follow.  
  
The leader of the group saw his girl and the yuppie being led into the crowd, and tried to push away from this retard that was clinging to him like a cockroach.  
  
He had reached breaking point about half an hour ago. He reached into his pocket, and tried to draw his gun, intent on winging the bitch.  
  
Bruce saw the move. His reaction was aided by years of practice - and the fact that a gun, buried deep in a pocket, is near impossible to draw quickly, because it will snag on virtually anything and everything.  
  
His grip found the youth's wrist, and squeezed at a critical point. As the pain from the crushed ligament began to register, a powerful blow cracked his jaw in two places, followed by a swift headbutt.  
  
The leader went down immediately, but two of his friends had time to pull out their weapons - a motorcycle chain and a knife respectively.  
  
The other two had gone after Diana and the couple.  
  
***  
  
Diana was hauling the two behind her, going through the eating area. Get these two to safety. Then pick up Bruce.  
  
Was it possible to have an evening out without getting into a fight, or was it just her?  
  
She heard them - one was running around the awning, the other barrelling through after them. Great.  
  
Diana stopped, and turned to face the boy, barely more than fifteen, yet taller than her, and carrying a screwdriver with a seven-inch shaft sharpened to a point.  
  
Nearby was a forty-four gallon steel barrel being used as a trash can. Diana picked it up, and as easily as a mortal would throw a beach ball, she threw it towards the youth.  
  
It impacted, bouncing off him as he hit the ground. Diana caught it, and set it down, then picking up the youth with one hand and placing the semi-conscious boy headfirst into used plastic, paper, and at least three children's vomit.  
  
The people around them were staring at this shameless exhibit of strength. "I'm trying out for the WWF."  
  
Suddenly she grabbed the girl, and hauled the teenager towards her, the aluminium baseball bat narrowly missing and on an intercept course with Diana's head.  
  
She caught it, and tightened her grip. The metal impacted like foil under her fingers.  
  
"Run."  
  
The remaining gang member saw the damage to his bat, the determination in her eyes, and took off.  
  
Diana was about keep going when she remembered Bruce had three of them to deal with.  
  
She looked at the couple. "You two, I want you to get out of here and go to the police, okay?"  
  
They looked at her, gave their affirmations, and headed out of the area.  
  
Diana turned, and started running.  
  
Don't be stupid, Bruce fights gang members armed with semi-automatic weaponry, deranged psychopaths and metas on a daily basis. Three teenagers aren't even going to make him sweat, let alone hurt him.  
  
Damn it, Diana, why are you so worried?  
  
***  
  
Bruce had spared a single glance to make sure that the leader was out of the fight before turning his attention to the others.  
  
The problem was, he mused, that if you're trained in several martial arts, it's easy to forget that the rest of the world don't have formal fighting patterns, and while you're trying to figure out if they're using the crane style or the Shaolin-la form, they're just trying to stick a shiv in your ribs and steal your wallet while you're bleeding to death.  
  
The one with the chain was swinging it around his head trying to gain momentum. Bruce gave him an incentive by moving closer towards him.  
  
Chain came up, and sent the spinning metal towards Bruce's head.  
  
Instead, Bruce bent backwards, letting the metal clear his face by half an inch. When the object had cleared him, he snapped back up, using all the power in his back and abdomen, and used the half-second opportunity to send two rigid fingers into the boy's eyes.  
  
With a howl of pain, the kid went down, and Bruce turned to see the boy with the knife move to make a diagonal slash which would lay open his face...  
  
...and Bruce kicked, once, a single forward motion directly into his attacker's groin. The force lifted the gang member off his feet, travelling two and a half feet backwards, and sent him crashing to the ground in a crumpled heap.  
  
The two took twenty-odd seconds to deal with. Bruce took their weapons, and headed back towards the eating area. The crowd that gathered to watch started cheering and applauding.  
  
***  
  
By now Diana had reached where she had started, and saw Bruce finishing off the last one with a simple economic blow. The relief she felt was almost physical in form.  
  
Bruce saw her arrive, and waved, making a quick gesture to grab their bags. Of course, a quick getaway was inevitable now.  
  
As she grabbed their belongings, checking that none of them had been pilfered, a blonde girl looked at Diana. "Do you know that guy?"  
  
"Oh yes."  
  
"Is he your boyfriend?"  
  
Diana was about to automatically reply in the negative when something kicked in.  
  
"Yeah. He's my boyfriend."  
  
The girl grinned. "Cool."  
  
The realisation slowly enveloped her like a wave.  
  
I have a boyfriend.  
  
The Batman is my boyfriend.  
  
Bruce Wayne is my boyfriend.  
  
By the time she had assimilated the last fact, she had noticed the size of the smile on her face.   
  
***  
  
Bruce strode towards the awning, and scanned Diana. She was fine ... of course she's fine you idiot. She can deck Clark if she wanted to, so why should you be worried?  
  
Why is she smiling like that?  
  
He decided to ask her later. He accepted congratulations from the crowd - thanking the gods that none of them took a photo, or a camcorder for a news feature. Bruce walked over to Diana, and quickly scanned her "Are you all right?"  
  
"Actually, I'm great."  
  
"What do you..."  
  
His words were cut off when she wrapped her arms around him, and gave him the kind of kiss which not only shuts you up, but makes you forget where and who you are.  
  
Pleasant as it was, he had to break it off, however, because he needed more oxygen than she did. She looked at Bruce, rubbing her thumb on his cheek. "You're my boyfriend."  
  
Bruce looked slightly shocked ... then a slow smile began creeping across his face. "You're ... you're my girlfriend."  
  
For a moment, they stood there, looking at the other, becoming aquatinted with the concept.  
  
"We're in agreement then?"  
  
"Sounds like it."  
  
They heard sounds of the police, heading towards them.  
  
"Where to?"  
  
"Your place or mine?"  
  
"Yours ... I sometimes get uninvited guests."  
  
With that, they headed to the edge of the crowd.  
  
By the time anyone in authority had reached the scene, they had completely disappeared.  
  
***  
  
Artemis slumped at the kitchen counter, glowering. "I do not trust you, manservant."  
  
"I regret to hear that, madam."  
  
"Just because your master is her ... current interest, does not grant you any liberties at all, do you understand?"  
  
"Crystal clear madam." Came Alfred's distant voice, as he rummaged through a cupboard. He finally emerged, sporting a pair of alligator oven mitts. "Can you open the oven door, madam?"  
  
Artemis stomped over, on the verge of telling him where to stick it, and opened the door. She was about to stomp back, and glower on the stool when her nose started flaring like a rampaging wild boar.  
  
"Wh ...what is..."  
  
"That..." stated Alfred, taking two metal trays of piping hot biscuits and taking them to the counter. "...is my latest creation. Triple-chocolate chip cookies, with extra butter."  
  
Artemis' nose was twitching madly, and her mouth was beginning to salivate uncontrollably. "I ... I haven't..."  
  
Alfred quickly and efficiently started placing the cookies onto a cooling mesh. "If it isn't too much trouble, could you taste one for me? I need an unbiased opinion otherwise it's not worth baking them again."  
  
Artemis swallowed, unable to take her eyes off the morsels in front of her. "I... I ... Diana requested that I help ... why not?"  
  
Alfred gave a wan smile, then placed three cookies onto a plate, adding a folded napkin, then pushing it across the counter. "Thank you madam. I have to warn you, it's rather..."  
  
The redhead took two cookies off the plate, and shovelled them into her mouth without ceremony.  
  
"...hot."  
  
Artemis chewed twice, and swallowed. Her eyes took a glazed look as Alfred's creation, made with a specially imported butter, overwhelmed her taste buds and shut down half her higher brain functions.  
  
Then she looked at him with a predator's gaze, making him feel slightly worried.  
  
***  
  
Diana was flying him home. He had changed into his costume, because his cowl had incorporated lenses which protected his eyes from the high speeds they were travelling. It didn't take long before she had reached the outskirts of Gotham where Wayne Manor was located.  
  
Diana landed on the two acres of front lawn. The Batman walked towards the gardener's shed and started changing.  
  
The Amazon followed, and started watching the Batman change.  
  
"That is not behaviour befitting a Princess of the Amazon nation." Stated Batman, now down to his skintight leggings.  
  
"It's within my rights now that we're officially a couple." Retorted Diana, haughtily. "Failure to observe the goods is considered grounds for break-up."  
  
Goods? As Bruce mulled over this side of Diana, he was now down to the jockstrap and extra-strength athletes cup (rated against a .22 calibre) and rapidly getting back into his civvies. Diana inclined her head and had a good long look at the rear.  
  
"Did you know there's a show in Los Angeles where somebody in a bat costume gets down to nothing but the cape and mask?"  
  
"I never knew you went to those places."  
  
"Oh I didn't. Donna went when she heard about it. Tried to imagine it was you, peeling off clothes to 'It's Raining Men' Laughed her head off, but nearly made the poor man on stage trip over."  
  
"It's Raining..."  
  
"Gay bar."  
  
Bruce tried to imagine the scene, a slight smirk raising.  
  
Diana noticed this. "A smile and a near one in less than three days." She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear. "At this rate, you're going to be acting like a human being in no time."  
  
Bruce finished changing, then the two headed to the Manor. Diana noticed her hand had automatically slipped into Bruce's now, with the ease of familiarity.  
  
As they headed to the front door, they slowed when they saw a translucent sled parked near the front door.  
  
"Artemis." hissed Diana.  
  
"Alfred's in as well." Noted Bruce.  
  
The two entered the front hall, Bruce reaching for an authentic Louisville slugger signed by Mickey Mantle.  
  
Diana looked at him. "A baseball bat? Are you crazy? This is Artemis!"  
  
Bruce looked at the bat, then her. "I was just..."  
  
She snatched the bat, then reached for one of a pair of mounted ornamental, but fully serviceable battle-axes. She hefted it experimentally before placing it in his hand. "That's more like it."  
  
They both heard the moan from the other side of the room. Carefully, they crept over to the door, and listened carefully.  
  
"Ohhh ... mmhhh ..." sounds of swallowing, gulping. "That is.... more. I would like more."  
  
"I'm glad that my efforts are appreciated, madam."  
  
More swallowing, liquid gulping. Chewing?  
  
"I thought you would appreciate that, madam."  
  
"Can you do no wrong? More! I SAID MORE!"  
  
"At this rate..."  
  
"I SAID MORE!!!"  
  
Diana looked at Bruce quizzically, who shrugged in response. A frantic movement, a chair dragging against the floor, the swallowing sounds escalating. "Damn you Alfred, if there were any man worth worshipping on this planet, it would be you..."  
  
"Shall I quote you as a reference, madam?" The sounds reached a crescendo ... then slowly slowed down. "Are you sure that was all, Alfred?"  
  
"I told you, there isn't any more left."  
  
Her voice was a chilling monotone. "Then I suggest you get some more."  
  
The kitchen door suddenly opened, to show an immaculate Alfred Pennyworth, wearing an apron and wearing alligator oven mitts. "Sir, madam - It looks like I have to go shopping."  
  
"Alfred ... what was going on in there?"  
  
A slight smile. "An old British method of diplomacy, madam. If you'll excuse me..."  
  
As Alfred headed for the garage, Artemis crashed through the door, hair dishevelled, eyes shining bright. "Alfred? You must..."  
  
"Miss Artemis, I have to go and buy some more butter."  
  
"I will fly you there!" She shouted, stopping only to lick her fingers. She turned to Bruce, eyes bright. "Wayne, to have that man's talents all hours of the day ... Diana, you will not be sorry!" She hurried off after the butler.  
  
Bruce placed a hand to his head, wondering. "Looks like Alfred made the peace."  
  
"Obviously. Do we want to know how?"  
  
Bruce debated the issue. "He'll tell us when he's ready."  
  
"Artemis will probably say ... something."  
  
"It's their own business."  
  
"Why should we..."  
  
"Are you as disturbed as I am?"  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
  
  
***  
  
Well, hopefully this wasn't another victim of the dread plague sequelitus.  
  
  
  
Please send any and all feedback to atullberg@mydeja.com  
  



	3. Default Chapter Title

The third instalment. "It's Alive!".  
  
I never thought I'd get this much feedback, still...  
  
Dedicated to my grandfather, Donald Maxwell McLean, born 9th January, 1921, died 5th July 2000.  
  
Disclaimers - better write some, eh? DC owns everything except the plot. (Which I am willing to negotiate...) Happy? Furthermore, if anybody thinks you could, would or should gain a single cent from Internet Fan Fiction, may certain portions of their body drop off in the most agonising fashion possible. Thus endth the sermon.  
  
  
The Unusual Mission, Part Three; the Next Phase.  
  
Summary; The JLA's catching up, and Arthur's none too happy. Now the family's getting involved ...   
  
  
***  
  
Barbara Gordon, aka Oracle, spoke to the speakerphone. "I'm not answering that question."  
  
"You have to."  
  
"What you're asking of me is impossible."  
  
"It seems pretty easy to me."  
  
"You're not the one who has to part with the information."  
  
"Babs..."  
  
"All right." She sighed. "I'm wearing that black t-shirt and those jeans Dad bought me for my birthday. And a pair of pink socks. Happy?"  
  
"Ooohhh yeaahhh...."  
  
"Richard Grayson, you're impossible."  
  
"I'm also irresistible."  
  
"And deluded." Barbara wheeled herself to a monitor, checking the computer performance and connection rates with a glance. "And why are you calling me?"  
  
"First, I wanted to hear your voice."  
  
"The other reason."  
  
"Is this line secure?"  
  
The world's foremost hacker sighed. "These systems are designed by the NSA, and modified by me. I used features from New Genesis and Apokilipian technology. I transmit on a secure waveband to the Watchtower regularly, and only Bruce and J'onn have clue one to my identity. Nobody and nobody can listen in on this conversation."  
  
"Okay. Did you catch the society pages?"  
  
Barbara tapped on one of her three keyboards, showing the Net addition of the Gotham Gazette society article concerning the appearance of one Amazon Princess appearing with one billionaire playboy at the Horwester Charity Function. "A little hard to miss."  
  
"Did he tell you about this?"  
  
"No. I didn't see it coming, either." She lifted her wire-frames up and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Perhaps I should actually attend a JLA meeting instead of telecommuting all the time. Conversations with Superman in the nude is fun, but you miss out on the office gossip."  
  
There was a pause. "Sorry, that image just threw me for a moment there."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Barbara jumped, turning to see Tim Drake leaning over her shoulder. "Do you want to give me a heart attack, Drake?"  
  
"I'd rather see your JLA meetings."  
  
"How did you get in?"  
  
"You left the door open. I would have said hi, but I had to go to the bathroom first." The current Robin leaned towards the speaker, and talked to the first person to hold the title. "By the way, she's wearing a Hanson limited edition tour t-shirt."  
  
Barbara covered her face in her hands, the sounds of Dick chortling ringing through her apartment. "Nobody but nobody can listen in?"  
  
"Dick..."  
  
"Hanson?"  
  
"It was a gift. What the hell were we talking about?"  
  
"Bruce going out with Wonder Woman." Tim helped himself to a bottle of Zesti Cola. "Where's Cassandra?"  
  
"In bed. Seven muggers at once and two drowning teenagers does a tired Batgirl make. Back to Bruce's new social life."  
  
"Alfred won't say a thing." Tim sat down in the well-worn visitor's chair. "He just does one of those smiles that makes you think he knows everything."  
  
"He does know everything. I couldn't do a thing in that house without him knowing about it. I swear he has a metagene."  
  
"Knowing that you were up to something is hardly the world's greatest deduction, Dick."  
  
"Does Donna know anything?" asked Tim.  
  
"Offworld, saving Kory's planet. There's going to be a sudden crimewave in Bludhaven when she comes back, because I don't want to be the one telling her."  
  
"You're volunteering Roy?"  
  
"Consider it karmic payback."  
  
"Bruce hasn't talked to me since that function." Barbara sighed.  
  
"Why don't we just ask him?"  
  
Barbara stared at Tim, the speakerphone crackling in the silence. "Just for that, you get to ask him."  
  
"Is there any evidence that they did anything else apart from go to the function?"  
  
"Just one ... Gateway PD reported an attempted assault with intent to kill three days ago. Two people, a man and a woman, stopped a local gang from performing the assault. Not the brightest bulbs in town, they did this in the middle of a local festival. The woman reputedly threw a forty-four gallon drum at one of the attackers, and blocked a baseball bat with one hand, some say she crushed it. The guy, unarmed, took out three of them in thirty seconds, one of them had a gun, but never had a chance to use it." Barbara leaned back in her wheelchair. "No photos were taken, but guess who's physical descriptions they matched?"  
  
"Circumstantial evidence."  
  
"Not enough to convict, but enough to follow up on." Retorted Tim. "When's the next JLA meeting?"  
  
"Tonight."  
  
"You watch them - check for body language and other signs. Don't ask him anything. I'll ask him tomorrow."  
  
"You want me to monitor the man who taught us how to watch others?"  
  
"Got a better idea?"  
  
Barbara rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Perhaps we'd have a better chance of finding out tomorrow. All of us." Her tone brooked no deviation from her plan. "Strength in Unity, guys."  
  
Tim shrugged. A plaintive voice came from the speaker. "Er...you'd probably be better at this, Babs..."  
  
"My apartment, eight sharp. A second before and your pay-per-view bill is posted to every cop in Bludhaven, and all your neighbours in your building."  
  
A brief pause. "Do ... do you want me to pick anything up before I get there?"  
  
***  
  
Lois Lane, reporter, minor celebrity, and multiple kidnap victim was at the breakfast table, reading through various magazines.  
  
Turning to the Gotham Gazette, she flicked through the pages, until she found the pages she wanted. Lois took a pair of scissors, chortling around a mouthful of toast, as she finished cutting the article out.  
  
A large part of her famed bravado stemmed from the fact that she was told as a very young girl that she wasn't as good as the boy her father wanted. Therefore, she had a deep-rooted inferiority complex that made her overcompensate - overachieve - to a phenomenal degree. And seeing who she suspected - but would never tell anyone - to be a potential rival for her husband's affections not only give up the chase, but replace him for an inferior choice made the little imps inside her dance with glee.  
  
A gust of wind fluttered her hair around but not a paper - experience taught her long ago to always keep a paperweight handy.  
  
"How was the Fortress?"  
  
"A massive pain. A multi-dimensional construct with glitches is not easy to debug." Clark Kent, aka Superman, slumped down to the table. "Knew that the whole thing spontaneously reconstructing itself was too easy. Anything interesting happen while I was away?"  
  
"Welll..." she showed him the article she had just cut out.  
  
Clark took the article. From the Gotham Gazette, one of the society pages, judging from it's florid style. The article had a photograph of ... Diana? Yes Diana, Wonder Woman herself, being led on the arm of...  
  
Bruce?  
  
Clark took off his glasses, reading the article more intently. Yes, the body of the article was about the shock appearance of Diana and ... Bruce? attending a charity function/excuse to throw a snobs party, the rest of ... Bruce??? ... the article was just filler about their other individual media appearances, but ...Bruce?!?! ... Clark couldn't read the rest ... BRUCE?!?!? ... because of the radiating bolts of numbness lancing through his body.  
  
Clark dropped the cardboard to the tabletop, feeling quite stunned. Lois was looking at him with a smile that could only be described as evil. "I'd thought you'd be surprised."  
  
"I never thought..." Clark tried to get this into perspective. And failed.  
  
Lois sipped her straight black from the mugs she 'liberated' from her SCU training. "How does she know America's richest slacker, anyway?"  
  
Diana meets him, once a week minimum, on the surface of the moon while he wears black tights and a cape. He got us one of the best apartments in this city as a virtual gift, and saved you from a dark cave, Lois, and you casually insult him without ever knowing the irony.  
  
I've rarely seen him trade more than ten words at a time with Diana, and this surprises me more than you know. I'd love to tell you exactly, but although we've shared no secrets from each other, this secret isn't mine to share.  
  
"I'd love to hear that myself. Maybe there's ... hidden depths to the man."  
  
"Well hidden." Lois started reading a copy of the Star. "You know, if you died, he'd be the first I'd marry, then screw for millions in alimony."  
  
"Lois, he is our landlord."  
  
"I call it getting my deposit back. Haven't you got a JLA meeting tonight?"  
  
"Oh yes." Clark could see everybody trying to find out about this little affair. As the JLA's Chair, he suspected that this was not going to be the most productive meetings.  
  
"Tell her that if she gives me an exclusive, I'll go easy."  
  
"The Webster's dictionary definition of 'easy', or the Lois Lane definition, which gave that senator the heart attack and quadruple bypass?"  
  
"You want to interview her? Fine." Lois would still consider her husband a rival for a scoop, an attitude that made him surreptitiously scan her for ulcers every other day. "Probably better, since she knows you ... probably reveal a few more things. You work on your amazon friend, I'll work on Wayne."  
  
"Bru ... Wayne knows me better than he does you. Why do you think you'd do better with him, anyway?"  
  
Lois shrugged, a sly smile on her face. "I'd look better with a low-cut blouse."  
  
"You wouldn't..." Clark then remembered who he was talking to. "I'll talk to her." He leaned in. "You can try to talk to him. You - be - good."  
  
"I thought you liked bad girls."  
  
"So might he." If some of the rumours concerning Catwoman were true ... "I'll take a quick trip around the world, then head to the Watchtower."  
  
"Oh, if you're heading to Germany...?"  
  
"I know, I know..."  
  
***  
  
Diana was on the phone. More accurately, a point-to-point link to another Wayne Industries encrypted unit, on a direct satellite link. Bruce had given it to her to keep in touch ... and to keep his secrets. Rather than make a convoluted series of code phrases for their cross-country conversations, he dug out one of the direct-line units that he used on a field mission and made a gift of it.  
  
And they say romance is dead.  
  
Judging by the background sounds, Bruce was in the Batcave, filing, Alfred tidying up around him.  
  
"I'll see you at the Watchtower then?"  
  
"Get the meeting out of the way. Then at this new restaurant ... French."  
  
"Is it as good as Alfred's cooking?"  
  
"A virtual impossibility, Miss."  
  
She heard Bruce strum his fingers impatiently until she heard Alfred move away from the receiver.  
  
"Is there anywhere else you want to go afterwards?"  
  
"What? No. Judging by the last two times we went out in public, it's better we keep that to a minimum. Besides ... we're overdue for some time spent alone, don't you?"  
  
"Oh ... right. Yes. Just making sure."  
  
"Wait a minute..." she picked up a newspaper next to her. "...just before you hang up, what do you think about this ... Luthor running for President?"  
  
"I try not to." Stated Bruce. "Clark's horror stories are enough for me."  
  
"And they laughed when I kept my British Passport." Called Alfred.  
  
Diana smiled, faintly. "Foreign National." Her smile increased. "Diplomatic Immunity."  
  
"If Clark wants to raise a point over this, let him. It's his territory."  
  
The sounds of the paper shuffling increased ... she could virtually see Bruce fidgeting, "Perhaps you should avoid this meeting."  
  
"And why that?"  
  
"They are going to torment you relentlessly."  
  
"Somehow, I think I can cope."  
  
"At least let me go first. Give me an hour to..."  
  
"...put the fear of God into them?"  
  
A short pause. "Preferably fear of me."  
  
Diana simply gave ten seconds of stone cold silence before replying. "I know you're trying to protect me, but I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."  
  
"It's just..."  
  
"Bruce ... this isn't the latest deadly gauntlet of Darkseid. It's friends and colleagues wondering who I'm going out with."   
  
"It's just ... you're going to be doing most of the work. Taking on most of the burden."  
  
"You've just described the feminine role in most relationships, Bruce."  
  
A slight murmur. "I have to try."  
  
"Be nice to them."  
  
"I'll ... go easy."  
  
"Okay. Bye." With that, she hung up. Both agreed that the cutesy 'you hang up' routine was risking a fatal saccharine overdose, and weren't willing to risk it.  
  
***  
  
Bruce sat down in front of the computer as Alfred set a glass of water in front of him. "She won't be deterred, will she?"  
  
"Not for a moment." Bruce absently sipped at his glass. "This was begun solely to protect my identity. It was meant to be a one-night favour solely for my benefit. Now, she'll have to continue that charade as long as we decide to ... continue this." He set the glass down harder than he intended. "Short of going public, I can't see any way of deflecting the attention off her. I'll have to stand aside and watch the others interrogate her about why she's going out with Bruce Wayne, of all people."  
  
"You could consider that is how most people feel when the Batman shows up to save the day ... helpless, incapable, wanting to help you help them, but knowing they can't do a thing about it ... perhaps this will make you more ... normal?"  
  
Bruce gave his butler an askew glance. "You're telling me to use one of my relationship issues to empathise with my fellow man?"  
  
"Well done Master Bruce, you're finally listening." Alfred turned to a hanging suit, and brushing it off. "If no other emergencies come up, you should make the reservations in plenty of time."  
  
Bruce strummed his fingers. "The reservation is too close to when I start my patrol."  
  
"The JLA is an obligation you must meet. We're playing fast and loose with the scheduling as it is."  
  
"I know ... I'm not blaming you, I just won't..."  
  
"...won't spend as much time with her as you like, sir?"  
  
Bruce nodded. Alfred smiled as he finished off his brushing, straightening up the lapels. "I was considering ... maybe you could give it a miss, tonight?"  
  
Bruce turned away from Alfred. "I can't give up my duties Alfred. You know that."  
  
"You can delegate." Alfred held out a cordless phone. "Master Dick is staying in the townhouse."  
  
Bruce looked at his butler, a grin stretching across his face. "He's still not fully acclimatised with the new Gotham."  
  
"Miss Cassandra can help. She knows this city just as well as you do."  
  
***  
  
Dick Grayson hung from the bar by his ankles, touching his toes and then the floor in flowing movements. MTV was on the bigscreen, showing Britney Spears' latest clip. The former acrobat wasn't too sure what the song was called, but had unofficially titled the music video The Adventures of Latex Girl, and her sidekick, NASA's Designated Dickhead.  
  
He'd planned a night of doing absolutely nothing, one of those rare times in his life of watching the worst cable had to offer in his underwear. A non-productive nirvana.  
  
Of course, the phone rang. Dick grabbed it on a downward stroke and snapped it up.  
  
"Dick Grayson, envy of men, lover of women."  
  
"I understood it was the other way around."  
  
"Bruce?" Dick lost his flow and kept hanging from the bar. When did he start opening with a joke?  
  
"I can't perform the patrol tonight. It's up to you."  
  
A sinking - or at the moment, rising sensation was in his stomach. There was a Japanese monster movie marathon as well.  
  
"Meet your partner at Barbara's place. Alfred will take the car to the usual spot."  
  
The line cut off.  
  
New opening, same old Bruce.  
  
***  
  
"Well, it looks like I've got the whole night to myself." This alien concept gave Bruce a sudden attack of vertigo. "What should I ... what can I do?"  
  
Alfred had put on his coat and bowler "I don't really know, Master Bruce. You see...I'm taking the night off."  
  
"Night off...? But what if..."  
  
"There comes a time when every man must spend some time with a woman ... by himself. Normally, it occurs between the ages of thirteen and sixteen. Now, at long last, that time has come for you. Besides ... I've always wanted to try the club scene..." Alfred descended towards the Batmobile, Bruce feeling more than a little lost.  
  
He walked over to a full-length mirror, and examined himself for any stains, wrinkles and imperfections. To scare the hell out of the planet's most powerful individuals on a regular basis took flair and a lot of preparation.  
  
As he adjusted the utility belt that he normally carried for the JLA and whenever he was hunting down metahumans, he mused over what Alfred said.   
  
Nonsense. He had spent time alone with women. He couldn't remember the exact dates and times at the moment, but the experiences were there...  
  
Still, Alfred's judgement was sound. Some time alone with Diana would help. Maybe...  
  
Snap out of it Bruce. Diana was born and raised on an island feminist utopia. This is also her first 'real' relationship, and you're haven't even started your third date. Add to the fact that you're not exactly ideal boyfriend material, and your own skills in that area are rusty, she's not going to be making, or be receptive to any sexual overtures anytime soon.  
  
Don't ruin a good thing by rushing it. It might be months before she's even ready to think about the concept.  
  
Bruce pulled down his mask, examining the blank look it afforded. The Batman examined his rationale, and nodded. He wouldn't try looking for something that wouldn't be there.  
  
***  
  
Diana put down the phone, and turned off the current. The only batteries this field unit took were military grade, and consequently very hard to get. Luckily, it also ran off house current, so she kept in Helena's and Cassie's house, in the spare room which had been hers before she moved into the WonderDome.  
  
The flying fortress was spacious, insulated against the elements, with unrivalled privacy, a telepathic interface and a great view. What it didn't have was electricity, and what she considered the greatest achievement in Man's World; hot running water.  
  
She left the room to see Cassie watching television. "Anything good on?"  
  
"A repeat of Angel. It's the one where he goes to Gotham, and the Batman is really a vampire cult with the leader wearing the costume, obsessed with controlling the city." She took a handful of potato chips, stuffing her face. "They got the obsessive bit right. Whenever I see him, I get this shiver right down my back...is he a vampire?"  
  
"Human. Just very dedicated. Does Robin know how you feel about his boss?"  
  
"Robin knows he scares everybody. What about..."  
  
"The Batman has never intimidated me." Stated Diana, with immense dignity. Recently, though, he's made you feel very nervous, for entirely different reasons...  
  
"What did moneybags say?" stated Cassie, not wanting to dwell on the Dark Knight any further. Okay, he was on TV right now, but she got to see David Boreanaz in tight pants, so it evened out.  
  
"Bruce..." empathised Diana "...is taking me to a restaurant after the meeting."  
  
"He's cool about that? You being a superhero?"  
  
"He doesn't have a choice in the matter." It's not like he can argue against it....  
  
"Okay." She watched the show until the ads came on. "Have you done it with him yet?"  
  
"Cassie!"  
  
The girl cringed, wondering how her mother always managed to enter the room at exactly the wrong time. "I told you not to pry like that. I'm sure Diana will tell you when she's ready, but until then..."  
  
"I've ... been thinking about it." Diana's voice broke across a potential parental tirade.  
  
The two women stared at the Amazon. Cassie's voice was low and deadly. "He hasn't been pressuring you, has he?"  
  
"Actually, he's been avoiding the subject." Diana went over to the percolator. "The last few times we've talked, somehow the steamier side of things never comes up."  
  
"Maybe Mr. Wayne doesn't want you to feel obligated."  
  
"Maybe he wants you to make the first move." Wondered Cassie.  
  
"Does he?"  
  
"How should I know? I've never met him!" Cassie got up and went over to the fidgeting Diana. "Before we get all technical here, let's get one thing straight. Do you wanna do him?"  
  
"It's just that ... it's been a while." The last time had been a hallucinatory episode in what was the WonderDome, where she, Clark and Bruce had been ensnared in a mock telepathic reality, where she had fallen for Clark and borne his child. Despite's Bruce's assurances that the hallucinations had been just that, the shared experiences had been very real, making conversations between her and Clark extremely uncomfortable for months afterwards.  
  
"I'm taking that as a yes."  
  
"It's just like riding a bike." Assured Helena, despite her misgivings, still wanted to be supportive.  
  
"You can have all the old Cosmo's." stated Cassie. "Tons of great stuff. How to dress, what to do, how to make him sit up and beg like a dog..."  
  
"Cassie!"  
  
"What? You bought it for that article."  
  
"I'll look at those later." Promised Diana, not wanting to cause a family argument. The Gods only knew how many 'passionate debates' there were around here due to her involvement in their lives. "Perhaps I should just open up the subject ... try and sound him out..."  
  
"No!"  
  
"For god's sake, Diana! When it comes to being subtle about sex, men are oblivious. Just give it to him straight." Empathised Helena.  
  
Diana fidgeted under their gaze. "My major concern is ... well, I don't want to look ridiculous when bringing it up."  
  
Helena and Cassie looked at each other for a second, then the elder touched Diana's shoulder. "Diana, for the majority of the time, the largest pieces of clothing you wear are a red bustier, and star-spangled bikini briefs. Not once in that time have you ever been accused of cellulite, anorexia, love handles, low muscle tone or unsightly sagging. There is no way on god's green earth you can look ridiculous in that regard."  
  
"So you're gonna..."  
  
"Maybe, Cassie. Maybe." Diana moved to the spare room, and checked a shoulder bag, talking over her shoulder. "It's going to come up sooner or later, and I want to make sure that I've got a course of action."  
  
Helena frowned. "You make it sound like a plan of battle."  
  
"Blame my mother."  
  
"Diana, just ... take it easy, okay? Don't rush it..."  
  
"Make him beg for it." Stated Cassie.  
  
Helena gave her daughter the patented 'you're-going-to-get-it-later' glare, and ignored the routine 'what-one-of-your-hallucinations-are-you-blaming-me-for-this-time?' stare, escorting Diana out the back.  
  
***  
  
"You really shouldn't blame Cassie ... she's curious, that's all."  
  
"She's curious. I'm curious, everybody at the museum is damn curious - by the way, everybody there thinks you're sleeping with him for his money, despite all my threats - but there's a difference between being curious and being damn rude."  
  
Diana turned to Helena and hugged her. "I know what I'm doing. What they say in the papers about him are faked, if that's what you're worried about."  
  
"For God's sake, I knew that. Besides, if he gets too fresh, just play basketball with his head, or something." She drew back from the embrace. "If I can trust my daughter's life to you, I can extend some of that to your personal judgement, can't I?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
Diana was preparing to take off when Helena's voice stopped her cold. "I know that you've known Wayne longer than you're telling Cassie."  
  
"Er ... what..."  
  
Helena gave Diana a stern look she reserved exclusively for her daughter. "I know you Diana. You wouldn't think about sleeping with a man you've only gone out twice with, who you've only known for less than a month ... unless you've known him longer ... a lot longer than you're letting on. I'm guessing you've known him for a pretty long time, but this relationship is new for both of you, is that right?"  
  
Diana shifted around, nervously. "I ... I can't..."  
  
Helena raised her hand to her temple, resignedly. "It's a super hero thing, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes." Diana turned away. "I ... I can't say any more."  
  
Helena nodded, gravely. As Diana turned to fly off, she heard her friend. "There's only one hero I know about in Gotham City."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I hope you know what you're doing." With that, she entered her house.  
  
***  
  
Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, drove the Batmobile through the night.  
  
Since the Batmobile was in it's newest incarnation, it wasn't gaining as many stares as usual, although that would change soon. Dick pulled up in the alleyway behind Barbara's building and opened the top.  
  
Immediately, a dark figure in a batsuit landed in the passenger seat. The costume was superficially Batman's, although the insignia was a yellow outline of a bat, the mask completely covered the face, and the figure was that of a young girl.  
  
"Hi Cass."  
  
The figure waved at him.  
  
"How's Babs?" He mimed the self-propulsion of the wheelchair-bound.  
  
The girl shrugged, making a 'so-so' sign with her hand.  
  
"Ready to kick ass?" He slammed his fist into his open palm.  
  
She nodded, then flicked on the radio, tuning it until she found a band she liked.  
  
"Oh no. She's discovered the Backstreet Boys." Dick quickly tuned it to a classic station and the sounds of ZZ Topp filled the cockpit.  
  
Cassandra quickly switched it back, and started bouncing on her seat to the rhythm.  
  
Dick groaned. "We are not going to inspire fear into the hearts of criminals when they hear 'Larger than Life' on our stereo, did you know that?"  
  
The girl kept bouncing, now twisting her head to the rhythm.  
  
"We turn it off when we see bad guys." He muttered, and pulled away. "Do you know why Bruce isn't doing this instead of me?"  
  
The girl stopped, then drew a circle from the back of her head to her temple, using both hands. Then she drew a five-pointed star where her fingers met. Then she continued her minimalist gyrations.  
  
Dick couldn't believe the news. "I'm covering for him so he can go on a date?"  
  
***  
  
Kyle entered the airlock, making straight for J'onn. He was clutching a People Magazine reprint of the Gazette article. "Have you..."  
  
The Martian Manhunter held up an identical copy. "Yes."  
  
Green Lantern spread his hands. "Nobody told me!"  
  
"Nobody told anybody, Kyle. This is simply Diana's personal life outside her duties."  
  
Kyle leaned towards J'onn, still confused. "I thought that she wasn't allowed to go with men, or something like that."  
  
"You went out with the former Wonder Girl, didn't you?"  
  
"Donna wasn't raised on that island." His voice grew more conspiratorial. "Roy Harper told me that going there is like signing up for the class with the most babes, then the professor comes in and you find out it's the 20th Century Advanced Feminism course, based on the subtopic that all men must die a slow and painful death."  
  
The Manhunter took Kyle's arm, and led him down the corridor. "Despite any preconceptions you might have about Themyscira, there is no specific law about fraternising with males ... simply because there were none for millennia. Also, Diana is their Princess and ambassador, meaning she would enjoy a certain amount of leeway if she chose to test any ... social boundaries. Finally, even if there were direct laws ... if she was truly determined, would that stop her?"  
  
"Okay. Then why him?" Kyle tapped the face of Bruce Wayne.  
  
"Why indeed?" stated J'onn, for entirely different reasons. "I'm curious as to what the Batman would think."  
  
"Batman? What does old pointy got to do with it?" Kyle suddenly whirled around, scanning the area. "Okayyyy ... that's the first time I've ever said anything about him without him appearing on me."  
  
"I'm sure that..."  
  
"J'onn, I was thinking out loud that I thought he was acting all scary simply because he was trying to overcome a ... personal deficiency, y'know what I'm saying? I was in the shower, using the back scrubber, getting that hard-to-reach bit below the ribcage. Guess who opens the shower curtain a second later and tells me to 'assist' him capture a meta-powered serial killer?"  
  
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer."  
  
"No it was..." Kyle stopped. There wasn't a hint of amusement in the Martian's features. "I can't figure you sometimes."  
  
"In response to your earlier question ... since Batman operates in Gotham, he might take a vested interest in Diana entering his territory on a regular basis."  
  
Kyle snorted. "He couldn't stop her..." his features grew worried. "...could he?"  
  
"Batman might take offence that another hero would operate in Gotham without his direct approval."  
  
"Yeah ... no muggers after midnight, no gang members wearing pastels on alternate days. Super-powered psychotics go straight to Arkham, do not collect two hundred dollars. You know, I don't need him telling me not to go to Gotham, I can stay away from that madhouse by myself."  
  
"Your common sense is improving, Kyle." Batman strode past the two. "J'onn."  
  
Kyle raised his hand towards the dark figure. "See?"  
  
***  
  
Batman was heading to the conference room when a familiar red and blue figure stepped in front of him. "Bruce."  
  
"Clark."  
  
"Are you going to fill me in?"  
  
"No."  
  
Batman started to walk past Superman, but the Kryptonian grabbed his arm. "Listen to me..."  
  
The Dark Knight remained still, but silent until Superman released his grip. "I'm listening."  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing that you should be concerned about."  
  
With that, Batman strode away. The Martian Manhunter materialised beside Superman. "I take it you were as successful as you anticipated?"  
  
"Better. He broke the ten word limit." Superman turned his head in the general direction of the teleporters. "She'll be here soon."  
  
"Perhaps you should speak to her?"  
  
"I'll have a better chance of finding out what's going on from her."  
  
"I'll talk to Bruce."  
  
Superman murmured his agreement. "You're the one he talks to the most, have you noticed that?"  
  
"Well, I am the most charming." The Manhunter glanced at the teleporters. "But you're missing the important question."  
  
"Which is...?"  
  
"It's not what two people are doing ... but what one other person in particular is going to do when he finds out?"  
  
Superman's face fell. "Oh. Him."  
  
***  
  
A large figure materialised in the teleportation tube, and stepped out. Six foot one, three hundred and twenty-five pounds, all muscle. He had long blonde hair and beard and a steel gaze that rivalled Batman's. He wore green-and grey scaled pants, and a piece of armour which covered his right side, and his left arm sported a yellow mechanical hand.  
  
Arthur Curry, Orin, King of Atlantis and the Seven Seas, and the core member of the JLA known as Aquaman strode into the conference room, noticing immediately that Diana wasn't there, and sat down next to Green Lantern. "Kyle."  
  
"Hey." Lantern was tapping what looked like a rolled-up newspaper on the edge of the table.  
  
Aquaman scanned the room, and it looked like nearly everybody had a newspaper ... the typeface belonged to The Gotham Gazette?  
  
"Why does everybody have the same newspaper?"  
  
Kyle gave Aquaman a bizarre expression. "You don't know?"  
  
"Obviously."  
  
"Don't you..."  
  
"Kyle ... for the past few weeks, I've been mediating disputes between several governors within my borders. Add to the fact that we don't get any television, Internet, radio or printed media, there are the odd gaps in our knowledge of what we consider an alien environment."  
  
"No TV?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Chandler and Monica are together."  
  
"That's hardly the ... really?"  
  
"Yeah. Live together now, in her apartment."  
  
"What about Joey?"  
  
"Had Elle Macpherson for his roomate for a few episodes. Now he works in the coffee shop as a waiter."  
  
Aquaman was about to ask about the latest hurdle in the saga of Ross and Rachel, when Superman entered the room. He was the only one apart from Batman who was not holding a newspaper. He also seemed to be annoyed, and judging from where he was looking, it seemed to be connected to those newspapers.  
  
What the hell was going on?  
  
***  
  
Wonder Woman materialised in the tube, and placed her bag nearby. She brushed her hair back and strode towards the inner recesses of the Watchtower. The usual echoes of the Tower seemed more distant than before.  
  
Diana entered the conference room. Virtually everybody was there - Superman, Lantern, Steel, Arthur ... from the look on his face he didn't have a clue what happened. The hologram of Oracle was floating above the table.  
  
She made eye contact with Batman briefly. For a moment there, she saw the same flustered individual who confessed an inability to perform anything remotely resembling a domestic task, then the Bat emerged, swallowing Bruce up completely.  
  
Everybody looked at her expectantly. And they all had the same newspaper ... as she went to her seat, they all attempted to hide their copies by either sitting them or hiding them in their capes. She wondered if she should get a cut for the readership increase that issue had enjoyed.  
  
The sound of her boots crossing over the floor, and her sitting down were magnified several times in the silence. Every hero was either looking at her, or trying very hard not to look like they were staring. Batman made absolutely no comment, giving his air of usual indifference.  
  
Aquaman mouthed 'Tell me now' to Kyle. Green Lantern wordlessly opened up his copy of the Gazette, to see a smiling Diana and Bruce Wayne, a paparazzi shot from the entrance. Aquaman's jaw swung open like a drawbridge. His frantic face was torn between staring at the cover and giving Batman an evil glower. The Dark Knight surreptitiously checked his utility belt, making sure his weapons were all there.  
  
Suddenly, a man in a red and yellow circus acrobat costume entered, newspaper in one hand, anguished expression foremost.  
  
"Oh, why, WHY?" His head extended on a telescoping neck, pleading. "We were meant for each other, Wondy! It's you and me, babe! I know I'm not as rich as him but-" his body inflated into a bodybuilder's parody "-look at this bod!" His head then whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "Those aren't the only muscles I can flex, bend, expand, and twist into interesting shapes."  
  
"Plastic Man..."  
  
"I know, I know ... shutting up, sitting down, putting on a brave face despite having his heart broken ... broken, shattered, torn asunder..."  
  
Superman decided to assert authority. "Plastic Man, if you don't sit down and be quiet, we'll tell Barda that we found out you've been impersonating items of her underwear for the past few months."  
  
"Eeep." The flexible hero sat down, putting on an innocent expression that wouldn't fool a blind man. Superman gave Batman a quick glance - if you didn't know the man behind the mask, you would swear that the Dark Knight was impatiently ignoring the whole affair in front of him.  
  
"Now then ... we've been debating the possibility of investigating low-level reports in accordance to Batman's proposed pro-active stance. One such incidence is the alleged contamination of the water supplies of a small town called Capeside ... accusations of a wide scale experiment which doubles vocabulary but reduces common sense by at least four times..."  
  
The agenda was passed with lightning speed, thanks to everybody's total indifference to the meeting. Superman placed the documents down. "Any questions?"  
  
"Yeah ... did Wayne try to slip you the tongue?"  
  
"You did it for a gag, right?"  
  
"You lost a bet! Just do what I do and run around the pool table with your pants around your ankles!"  
  
Those questions broke the silence and the entire table turned to a cacophony of questioning. Wonder Woman covered her face with both hands, but couldn't hide the grin, which fairly threatened to crack her face in two.  
  
A slow, methodical rapping filled the conference room, and everybody turned, to see The Batman knocking on the table until relative silence reigned.  
  
The Dark Knight got up, slowly, placing both palms flat against the conference table, giving everyone his patented blank-eyed glower. "If you've finished gossiping like old ladies ... "  
  
The implied threat was more than enough to make the younger heroes shut up, and the veterans think twice. The meeting broke up, however not into the small groups as per usual thanks to Batman's little proclamation.  
  
Wonder Woman was walking to the lower levels when Superman came up to her. "Diana?"  
  
"You're about to ask me about my evening?"  
  
"Er ... sort of. Well, yes." He looked around, seeing that (a) the other heroes weren't around and (b) Batman was remaining at the table, talking to ... oh great, Aquaman.  
  
"Bruce and I went to this charity dinner ... it was either that or spar with Artemis again."  
  
"Just ... just that? One of those charity dinners he goes to?"  
  
"Are you concerned, Clark?"  
  
"Well ... it's not like ... I've never seen him go out of his way to be friendly." Superman knew that was the case ... even though most of the people within the League didn't even know he had a secret identity, he still tried to relate to them. Watched some football with Lantern and Wally a few weekends, indulged J'onn's Oreo habit, gave Steel a meteorite composed of nearly pure nickel as a housewarming present.  
  
Batman was the complete opposite, effortlessly intimidating people who had the power to vaporise him without an iota of effort. Orion rarely spoke out of turn in his presence, the other heroes would draw straws to see who was unlucky enough to speak to him, and Plastic Man would obey his orders for several minutes without a comment.  
  
"Surprisingly enough, he's been more than friendly."  
  
"R...I mean, are you sure?"  
  
Diana gave the man she'd received her first kiss from a stern look. "What's do you mean, Clark?"  
  
"That ... he might be putting on an act."  
  
Diana snorted, smiling slightly at this statement.  
  
Superman took a breath, marshalling his arguments. "Listen to me, Diana. For those of us who have secret identities, Kyle, me, it's all a matter of masks. For me, it's taking off Pa's old glasses and wearing a skintight costume that my mother made for me."  
  
Diana thought about raising a point about mothers who would make such a costume for their sons, and wisely shut up. "What are you getting at, Clark?"  
  
"I'm saying ... Superman is the mask I put on ... the Bruce Wayne you were with was the mask he puts on when he isn't wearing a cape. I've known him the longest, and the closest I've ever seen that could be called his 'real' face is when he puts on his costume."  
  
Wonder Woman shook her head at this. "Don't you think that you're overreacting, slightly? I can tell the difference between Batman and Bruce Wayne."  
  
Superman lowered his voice. "The death of Bruce Wayne's parents is public knowledge, the twelve years he spent training are completely unaccountable, and Batman's equipment budget outstrips the GCPD by several million every year. The main reason nobody has successfully put the two together is the fact everybody thinks Bruce Wayne can't even walk and talk at the same time, let alone launch such a campaign. Does that tell you how good an actor he is?"  
  
***  
  
The Dark Knight felt the pressure in his skull the instant Wonder Woman left the table. -Something you want to tell me, Bruce?-  
  
-Not really Arthur.-  
  
J'onn looked around, frowning, but caught the expressions of the King of the Seven Seas and the Dark Knight, and decided only to intervene when somebody's head started bursting like on 'Scanners'. Besides, he had to polish off some Oreos right now or he would strangle Plastic Man.  
  
-Run out of bimbos, did you Wayne?- A grin devoid of any pleasant emotion creased the Atlantean's bearded features. -Thought so.-  
  
Batman slammed his mind shut, a wave of anger beginning to build. That emotion began to give strength to his mental barriers, making other thoughts indistinct and blurry.   
  
-Considering your own personal life, Arthur, don't throw stones in a glass house.-  
  
Orin's eye gave a nasty twitch, and Batman felt the experienced telepath begin to probe around his cerebrum. -I'm not going to let you harm Diana just so you can preserve your secret identity, even if I have to rip out every experience with women out of your head, got it?-  
  
Batman tried to focus on Aquaman, his blood pressure rising to dangerous levels, blood starting to well out of a nostril...  
  
...and sent every ounce of hatred in his soul, for every psychopath, every mugger, and every criminal in Gotham, along the telepathic connection and into Arthur's head.  
  
The Atlantean's head jolted back, left eye rapidly turning bloodshot, an unnatural gagging coming from his throat. He forced his neck down, staring into the white orbs of the Batman.  
  
-Pampered fool-  
  
-Mindless idiot-  
  
-Brooding Fanatic-  
  
-You noticed you self-obsessed -  
  
-Half-witted-  
  
-Arrogant-  
  
-Freakish-  
  
-Deluded-  
  
Suddenly the two's heads stretched backwards, then slammed themselves into the conference table, hard, with a sound like mating coconuts.  
  
-I don't know about you but SOMEONE IS TRYING TO EAT HERE. Either start shouting like humans or beat each other up like superheroes.-  
  
***  
  
J'onn sat down, in a private little room, munching on a large bag of Oreos. It had been a particularly enjoyable batch, until Arthur tried to bully the Batman, of all people.  
  
A telepathic wrestling match between the King of Atlantis and the Dark Knight would have gone on for hours, good thing he was there to break them up.  
  
A smile creased along his face. "Hail to the King, baby." He muttered, as he tossed up an Oreo and caught it in his mouth.  
  
***  
  
Batman looked up at Arthur, an ugly bruise starting to form on the Atlantean's forehead.   
  
"This isn't finished."  
  
"As far as I'm concerned, it is. Whatever is going on between Diana and me remains between us. If you don't like it..."  
  
Batman left the room. He walked three flights of stairs down until his legs gave way, due to the wave of nausea that threatened to cripple him.  
  
***  
  
"Clark, I know you're concerned about me, and I appreciate that fact. But please understand ... I'm not going into this blindly, despite what everybody thinks. I know who, and what he is."  
  
Superman looked away. "I ... Is it ... serious?"  
  
"I ... we don't know yet. It's still ... new." She looked down, then up. "The entire concept of being in a relationship is still a novelty for both of us."  
  
"Relationship ... I never thought Bruce ... at least not without..."  
  
"...a few years of therapy?"  
  
The two turned to see Arthur standing behind them. He held their gaze for a few moments, then Aquaman strode past Superman and Wonder Woman. "Arthur, while you're here..."  
  
"Later." His left eye was bloodshot to the point where it was more red than white. A large bruise was on his forehead, and his mood was worse than usual. He gave Diana a neutral glance and left.  
  
"He took that better then I thought."  
  
Wonder Woman raised her hand to her temple. "Gods...I should have told him."  
  
"Would it have made any difference?"  
  
"Maybe ... maybe not." She looked at Superman, regretfully. "At least it would have been polite."  
  
"I suppose ... what happened to his head?"  
  
***  
  
Batman was seated, resting his head in his hands. The migraine from the telepathic attack was fading to a manageable level, and his blood pressure had lowered to near normal. His meditative practices made him able to rest much more quickly than others...  
  
"Bruce."  
  
Batman looked up at the lurking figure of a bright green bald man built like Schwartzenegger after a health farm regime specialising in beef, exercise, and steroids.  
  
"Just give me a minute to recover from your headache, J'onn."  
  
"The pain you're suffering isn't concussion based."  
  
"How's Arthur?"  
  
"Almost suffering as much as you." The Martian Manhunter touched Batman's head, and the pain disappeared entirely. "I've numbed the pain receptors for a few hours. Do you mind filling me on what's happening with you and Diana?"  
  
"At least you're direct."  
  
"When you've lived as long as I have, you learn the value of saving time."  
  
Batman got up, having learned long ago that hiding things from a mind reader was a virtual impossibility. "After that charity function, I showed her around Gotham, trying to distract her from..."  
  
"...from what Bruce Wayne is seen to be?"  
  
The two started walking down the corridor, half their attention on the conversation, the other listening for interlopers. "Yes. It turned out that we had more in common than we originally thought." Bruce looked down, then at J'onn. "We're ... 'going steady'."  
  
The throaty chuckle at this remark resonated throughout the enclosed space. "'Going steady'? I knew that bypassing your adolescence would have side effects..."  
  
"It's the only method I can use to describe our situation." Muttered Batman, feeling the unfamiliar edges of embarrassment.  
  
The Manhunter's mirth subsided as he produced an Oreo. "How will you handle Arthur?"  
  
Batman grimaced, rubbing his forehead. "Either way, it all depends what action he takes, doesn't it? He favours direct action, but knows the value of indirect measures."  
  
"Don't underestimate him."  
  
"Underestimating the ruler of seventy per cent of the Earth's surface is the last thing I will do. Also, please don't speak with your mouth full."  
  
The Manhunter swallowed. "Do you require protection, Bruce?"  
  
Bruce gave J'onn a veiled glance. "Appreciated, but I'd rather keep this between me and him. If anybody else takes sides in this matter, we could turn the JLA into a factional bloodbath."  
  
"Just like a political organisation?"  
  
"Precisely." Bruce looked at the League's elder statesman with all the seriousness he could muster. "If it comes down to me and him, I want nobody else drawn into it. I want you to make sure it stays that way."  
  
"Somebody else is. Diana herself."  
  
The Dark Knight gave a resigned smile. "Oh I know. She'll find a way to enter this little ... disagreement. I'm not going to try to stop her."  
  
J'onn cocked his head slightly. "So why are you afraid of that?" Batman gave J'onn a vicious look. "No, I'm not reading your mind. It's simply a case of me knowing you, despite your efforts."  
  
"The possibility exists that she might decide that a King is a better choice than a Knight."  
  
"I doubt she's that shallow."  
  
"I know. The rational states that. The intellectual part that has observed her and noted her behavioural patterns over the years presents the case. But the emotional..." Batman rubbed the outside of his gloves. "The rational and emotional parts of the mind rarely agree."  
  
J'onn murmured agreement. "I'll try to keep the other members out of it if it comes to that. I can't make promises though..."  
  
"Your best is more than enough."  
  
J'onn stopped, turning Batman to face him. "I doubt if anybody thought of putting the two of you together." He suddenly grinned, and clasped the Dark Knight's shoulder. "But I hear that the ideas that nobody else thinks of are the best."  
  
With that, the Manhunter walked away. Batman headed for the teleporters, his steps lighter than before.  
  
***  
  
"Oh, Lois says hi..."  
  
Diana nodded, knowingly. "She wants an interview?"  
  
"Says if it's an exclusive, she'll go easy."  
  
"Just how is that senator, anyway?"  
  
"Oh, he's fine ... resigned, said he wanted to spend some time with his family anyway..."  
  
"I heard he became a born again Christian."  
  
"It's pretty common with near death experiences..."  
  
They both shut up as they heard familiar footsteps. Green Lantern rounded the corridor, and walked up to Superman and Wonder Woman. "Er ... hi."  
  
"Kyle."  
  
"So ... er..."  
  
"Dating Bruce Wayne of Gotham. Might be serious. Looks good in a suit." Stated Diana.   
  
"Might be...?"  
  
"It's just ... " Green Lantern scratched the back of his head. "...I never knew he was ... you know, your type."  
  
"I know the feeling."  
  
"Oh please..."  
  
A rolling gait made them all look up. Batman was suddenly there, at the end of the corridor, heading towards them.  
  
The Dark Knight gave Superman, the closest thing to an ex-boyfriend Diana had, one of his more life-threatening gazes. Superman gave him his 'stern resolute' expression back, while reminding himself that he was bulletproof.   
  
Green Lantern, the only person there who didn't know Batman's identity, moaned. "Here we go..."  
  
"I take it that the topic is Wonder Woman's personal life."  
  
"That's right." Superman met Batman's gaze without blinking, then turned to Diana. "Do you want the JLA to have an official position on this?"  
  
"I recommend a firm 'no comment'." The implication was that his 'recommendation' would be made official policy or else. "The JLA has no official position, or directives as per the personal affairs of it's members. Let Wayne's press staff deal with the media. That's what they're paid for."  
  
His blank gaze swept over Superman and Green Lantern. "I recommend ... strongly, that you both adopt that policy."  
  
"Am I allowed to say anything?" asked Wonder Woman, directing this comment to the air.  
  
Green Lantern thought Batman was somehow shocked by the question. "You can say anything you wish."  
  
"While we're on the topic ... you seem to be the only person here who doesn't have an opinion. Since everybody else is giving their two bits, do you want to say something about it?"  
  
"Your personal life, unless it jeopardises your life or the lives of those you work with, is yours. Nobody else's." He pauses. "I sincerely hope that he manages to make you happy."  
  
"Thank you. Oh, there's one more thing..." Wonder Woman walked towards him. "Unless you object, I'd like to use your teleporter. I have a date."  
  
"Of course."  
  
The two turned, heading for the teleporters. Batman's cape was cut millimetres away from the floor, hiding the action of his feet, making it look like he floated just above the air.  
  
Kyle, unaware of the theatre put on for his benefit, turned to Superman. "Why isn't Batman arguing?"  
  
Superman's voice was slightly distant as he watched the two walk away. "What do you mean?"  
  
"She's using his teleporter for personal business. That was the same guy who tore a strip out of me for asking Steel to fix my VCR after a meeting."  
  
"Tore a strip?" Batman favoured the low, threatening monotone that managed to terrify more effectively than a Drill Sargent's most fanatical rants.  
  
"He did one of those ... non-blinking stares for at least two minutes, didn't speak ... you know."  
  
"Oh. One of those."  
  
Superman saw J'onn out of the corner of his eye. "Look, I've got to go, Kyle. Catch you at the next meeting, okay?"  
  
"Yeah ... sure ... maybe Donna knows something..."  
  
***  
  
The yellow mechanical hand strummed on the edge of the throne. The bearded face grimaced.  
  
He had to do something.  
  
She and him? Impossible.  
  
He had seen the Dark Knight's mind - a tangled, dangerous, screaming instrument of vengeance. There could be no affection, no positive emotion.  
  
Diana had to have been deceived by Wayne. Some dark scheme of his ... possibly trying to seize the Chair of the JLA? Batman and Superman rarely agreed on anything, and Batman had frequently gone his own way despite the League's lack of support. Even formed his own personal super-group once. Batman might have intimidated the rest of the League, but he and Diana were never terrified like the rest of the sheep.  
  
Would he intentionally seduce her just to secure control of an organisation?  
  
Orin smiled in his solitude ... never underestimate The Batman.  
  
Think, Orin, think.  
  
Engaging him directly would be sheer stupidity. Beating up Batman would only turn Diana further towards him. Also, since Batman insisted on keeping his identity secret from the majority of the League, could gain further points if Aquaman was reported for beating up a 'helpless' human. Not that it wouldn't feel very, very good...  
  
Maybe afterwards. Try and turn the other heroes against this new union? Just how? They'd know part of why you were doing it, Diana was strong enough to endure any pressure...  
  
...just a moment. Pressure.  
  
Not society, not peer, but another pressure entirely.  
  
The idea formed within his head, and a beatific smile creased his features.  
  
The King of Atlantis got up, stopping only to pick up a watertight plastic bag, and that copy of the Gotham Gazette. He tore the pages enough to remove the good works of Wayne from the article, revealing only Wayne's infamous dating record.  
  
As he boarded the fastest submarine in the city, he went over his plan, which was simple, and direct.  
  
If you want to win the heart of a woman, allies are always desirable.  
  
And what better ally than the woman's own mother?  
  
***  
  
"Can I have your autograph?"  
  
Diana looked at the girl, no more than seven, holding a notepad and pen, a pleading look in her eyes. She sighed, then smiled, always having a soft spot for children.  
  
"Of course ... what's your name?"  
  
"Larissa...hi Mr. Wayne."  
  
Bruce waved to the girl as Diana gave a flourishing signature on the pad. "How's your mom and dad?"  
  
"Okay ... Daddy says he's going to kick your ass on the course next week."  
  
Diana gave the pad back. "Now watch your language."  
  
The girl took the pad and practically skipped over to her parent's table. Diana unconsciously rubbed her wrist.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"Fine ... just that I've given more autographs than I can remember. Even when I was still learning English, and barely forming coherent sentences, I was asked for autographs."  
  
Bruce Wayne had given five at the most, even when some of the more malicious rumours about his lifestyle broke out. And the Batman never stayed around long enough to be accurately described, let alone asked for his signature and a souvenir snap. "Ever get used to it?"  
  
"It's not the occasional one ... it's the twenty in a row when you first go out in public, and the crowd nearly crushes your friend next to you, so you have to fly her to safety. Then a cop meant to be holding back the crowd asks you for one when you're waiting for a meta's counter-attack at any second." She looked around, making sure others weren't listening, then leaned in. "Those are the times when the rest of us realise that you're onto something with this 'urban legend' idea."  
  
Diana drifted into silence, a pattern she'd adopted throughout the meal. Every time Bruce tried to start up a new topic of conversation, she would abstractly latch onto and drift away from the topic.  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
"Well ... there might be..."  
  
For a sickening moment, he imagined her saying something like 'it's not working out', or similar.  
  
"...I think Helena suspects who you are."  
  
He shrugged, that sudden weight now gone. "I suppose it was inevitable, at some stage."  
  
Diana was looking at him strangely. "You're not mad?"  
  
"I have half-a-dozen alibis lined up at any one time."  
  
She looked back at her meal. "I imagined you would be foaming at the mouth."  
  
"One of the aspects of having..." he quickly scanned the area "...an alternative lifestyle is knowing that eventually the questioning is going to involve you, sooner or later. You have to have your ducks lined up well beforehand."  
  
"Perhaps I should have one."  
  
"Another ... lifestyle?" Bruce shook his head. "I think you're coping pretty well without one."  
  
"I wouldn't mind ... avoiding this." Diana glanced at the restaurant patrons, most were staring at them, or openly talking about them. "You said you envied Clark's marriage. I envy his life outside costume."  
  
"We hold ourselves up to him quite a bit, don't we?"  
  
"Unfortunately." Diana grinned mirthlessly. "A change of clothes and a pair of glasses, and he can join the human race. We seem to be chained to our ivory towers."  
  
"Would you like to see what it's like?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've been creating ... lifestyles for years now. Full documentation and history. There's a disguise room where I can turn you into a different woman in minutes." He leaned in. "If you want to know what it's like to be a normal human, even for a little while, I can do that for you."  
  
This is one of the many times where your life is decisively different from other women. Other men would offer clothes, jewellery, trips to exotic locales. This one states that he can give you a secret identity, an opportunity to seem normal. Drinks after work, walking down the street without everyone staring. Acts of routine that was beyond you now being offered free and clear.  
  
"I might take you up on that, Mr. Wayne."  
  
"Of course..." he looked at his empty plate. "...we all want what we can't have. Want dessert?"  
  
"Mmm? Oh, no. Besides ... I've been wanting to try some of those cookies Alfred makes."  
  
Bruce signalled to the waiter, who materialised immediately. "Oh yes. How's..."  
  
"Artemis has been trying to learn to cook ... just so she can make them."  
  
The mental image of one of the most warlike women in existence trying to learn to bake gave Bruce a reason to pause.  
  
"She's been trying to find that butter for a while now."  
  
"I could call the supplier..." Bruce signed the bill with a flourish, and palmed the waiter a hundred-dollar note.  
  
"Don't. She's determined to do it herself." She got up from the table. "One thing I've learned about her is that you don't offer her any help unless she asks for it."  
  
"Very stubborn."  
  
"A lot like you in that respect."  
  
At the exit, Bruce shook hands with the maitre de, and the chief cook, slipping them several hundred-dollar bills, all neatly folded. "If that's the case, why does she still hold me in contempt?"  
  
They headed to Bruce's Lamborghini. "You know, like repels..."  
  
"...and opposites attract." Bruce held the door open for Diana, who slid in gracefully. "Does that mean we're opposites?"  
  
"Just opposite enough to make it interesting."  
  
Bruce revved the engine, and peeled into the freeway, hitting the speed limit in three seconds.  
  
Diana sat back, looking at the city flying past. "Where to?"  
  
"The Mansion." Replied Bruce.   
  
"So are we going to go on patrol again?"  
  
"Not really..." Bruce sounded embarrassed. "Alfred suggested that I let Dick perform the patrol. He then decided to take the night off."  
  
"Really?" There was a discernible lilt in her voice. "When the butler's away..."  
  
"It was his idea." He changed gears aggressively. "I want you to know ... I'm not going to ... attempt to pressure you towards ... that."  
  
"That?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're talking about sex, aren't you?"  
  
"I ... yes."  
  
"Good. We Amazons, not knowing about such things, want to make absolutely sure." She looked away to the window. "I know you're trying to make things easier, and I appreciate that, but I'm not going to be coddled like a child, okay? If you feel you have to say something, then just say it." The last few words were spat out.  
  
There was an awkward silence in the car as the scenery flew by.  
  
"Is this an argument?" Diana heard a slight edge of fear in his voice.  
  
"No." She smiled faintly. "You'll know when we're having one, believe me."  
  
"Are you sure? I mean..."  
  
"Bruce, remember when you refused to bend on four words in a letter to the Indian Prime Minister for three hours straight? That was an argument. You single-handedly made Clark go outside and bash his head against a crater wall."  
  
"Ah." He smiled, faintly. "Is it wrong to feel proud about that?"  
  
"History will be the judge." She turned back to Bruce, and laid her hand over his on the shift. "We need a song."  
  
Bruce reached for the radio but Diana swatted his hand away. "I meant our song."  
  
"We do?"  
  
"Apparently most couples do."  
  
"You're right." He was suddenly stuck by a thought. "No cute nicknames."  
  
"Oh, come on."  
  
"I have to draw the line somewhere."  
  
"Brucie?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Brucie-wewsie?"  
  
For a split second, she saw terror on his face. "You can't..."  
  
"Brucie-pewsie?"  
  
"Please don't."  
  
A laugh issued from her throat. "Okay, no cute names ... for now. But we have to negotiate a song."  
  
"A song's fine." He thought for a moment. "'It's Not Unusual...'?"  
  
"Not Tom Jones."  
  
"What's wrong with Tom Jones?"  
  
"I don't know ... there's nothing specifically wrong with him or his songs, but I just don't see one of his songs as ours. What about 'My Heart will Go On...'?"  
  
Despite his best efforts, the nausea was plainly visible on his features.   
  
"'Unchained Melody'?"  
  
"What's that one?"  
  
"The theme from...right, you don't like movies." She thought for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Ohhhh, my loovvee, my darling..." she suddenly scowled at Bruce. "I know I can't sing. Stop smirking."  
  
Bruce quickly looked at himself in the rear view. "This is not a smirk, it's my 'trying to remember' expression."  
  
"Bruce, I know a smirk when I see one."  
  
He signalled, while racking his brains for a solution. "I think your voice is one of your most attractive features."  
  
"You're just saying that." Her scowl was softening, however.  
  
"Women would kill for that voice. " He pressed his argument. "And I never just ... say that."  
  
She smiled, glancing at her lap, then at him. "Bruce?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Have you ever thought about me ... like that?"  
  
His eyes kept firmly on the road. "It's ... it's been an effort not to lately."  
  
He seemed embarrassed, but Diana wanted to delve behind this. "What about before...?"  
  
"Not ... not seriously." His fingers twitched around the wheel. "You seemed ... unattainable."  
  
"I've been doing that a lot." She leaned back, then looked wolfishly at Bruce. "The jury's still out on wether you're gay or just fanatical."  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"Why should I know? I'm only your girlfriend."  
  
***  
  
The girl, christened Cassandra, now officially the new Batgirl, was a phenomena. Trained at birth in every form of combat, she had nearly superhuman combat abilities at the age of fifteen-seventeen - nobody knew her exact age. However, her ability to communicate had been severely hampered, to the point where she had no verbal or reading skills whatsoever, and could only interact by an elaborate means of charades.  
  
It appeared that [scary pointy-eared guy who inspires bedwetting] had told [lady on wheels who hides Brad Pitt movie collection] to perform a [circle city look for bad guys] with [man with long hair who resembles male model].  
  
Cassandra liked [guy with the rear girls try to stare at], he would put on the radio instead of the police band, and actually talk to her. She couldn't understand the words ... yet, but acknowledging her rather than just barking out orders made her feel ... warm, safe.  
  
This was not one of the best times, since [man who makes wheel-lady put on make-up] had been talking non-stop ever since she'd turned on the radio.  
  
"Okay, I know that Bruce should have a private life, and he should. I mean, he deserves to have one. But... Wonder Woman? C'mon! Okay, let's overlook the fact she's in Superman's power class. It's actually not a factor. They're ... totally different. I've met her. I've met a lot of heroes. And I know her sister. Hey, we get on pretty well ... not that way, I never did. We're like ... you know, brother and sister. Sort of. And Bruce is sorta like my father ... looked after me, taught me, keeps on giving me grief, like a dad is supposed to. And Donna's going to freak when she finds out, so ... I mean, what's your opinion?"  
  
He looked at the masked girl, who was leaning back in the chair. Dick was about to ask what she was thinking when a loud snore reverberated throughout the interior.  
  
***  
  
Diana and Bruce were in the kitchen. Bruce had been searching the fridge when he discovered a fruit platter, and since he couldn't remember any visitors or functions that would be held in the near future, he assumed Alfred had made it for them and set it out.  
  
"I like what you've done with the place." Stated Diana, as she polished off the last of the strawberries.  
  
"It's amazing what you can do with a few million if you put your mind to it ... " A flash of memory made him get up, holding his hand out to her.  
  
"...that reminds me, there's something I want to show you..."  
  
He led her by the hand into the upper areas of the mansion, where most of the bedrooms were located. Diana assumed this was where everybody actually lived, since the signs of habitation were the clearest in this vast house.  
  
Bruce guided her into a small room, a small sitting area. As he guided her in front of a large window, Diana saw that the view overlooked the entire city.  
  
Bruce stood behind her as they watched the shimmering lights of the city, the moving traceries of the traffic and the glittering bay behind the teeming metropolis.  
  
Bruce decided to chance it, and slid one arm over her shoulder. There was a moment when she shifted under him when he thought he did something wrong, but the surge of relief when she took his other arm and wrapped it around her waist was almost overwhelming.  
  
Half the time he didn't know what he did was right or wrong when he was with her. He tried desperately to analyse, to plot and plan his moves, like every other aspect of his life, but now ... when she came near, his certainties and assurances slipped away in front of the anxieties of the moment.  
  
"I can understand why you're so proud of that city..."  
  
"How?"  
  
"It wouldn't be there if it wasn't for you. That is yours, no matter who holds the titles to the properties or becomes elected. The Batman owns Gotham. It's a testament to your achievements."  
  
"It's not just ownership. It's the lives. It's just metal and concrete without the people."  
  
Diana looked up at Bruce's gaze. "So you're saying that personal pride has nothing to do with it?"  
  
Bruce looked down at her - there was an impish curl to her lips that he was seeing more and more often ... something he didn't mind at all. "Well, a little pride isn't bad ... it's good for..."  
  
"...that massive ego of yours." She leaned back into Bruce. "Admit it."  
  
"Admitted. And my ego is not massive." Something struck him. "There's something else I'd like to show you..."  
  
She gave him a suspicious glance. "Go on."  
  
"I was thinking ... on the grounds there's a spot on top of a hill, under an oak that's been there for years ... it's very nice there this time of year. If you're not doing anything tomorrow, perhaps we can have a picnic?"  
  
"Picnic?"  
  
"I thought it could be something ... different."  
  
"Sure." She seemed somewhat preoccupied.  
  
"Is something wrong?"  
  
"Oh, nothing actually wrong ... is there a bathroom in this mansion?"  
  
"The closest one's over here..." He escorted her to his bedroom with the ensuite.  
  
When she closed the door, Bruce turned to the cupboard. Nothing annoyed Alfred more than staining a suit unnecessarily, so he quickly changed out of it to some slacks and a shirt.  
  
What could they do now? Television? He avoided it as much as possible, and he didn't know Diana's preferences in that area. Sitting in front of a fire? That was one domestic task he could perform adequately, thanks to an intimate knowledge of arson techniques.  
  
Had Tim left a Nintendo?  
  
Bruce strummed the back of his hand. You can think of something ... think of all the times you've spied on couples on stakeouts.  
  
Since most of the subjects of his observations were criminals, he doubted that his voyeuristic journeys would have any wisdom for this matter.  
  
Bruce heard the door to the bathroom open. He turned around, to discover that she had changed out her dress.  
  
She now wore black shoes with spike high heels, sheer dark thigh-high stockings, and a smile.  
  
Nothing else.  
  
Bruce's IQ dropped a hundred and fifty points as Diana walked ... well, slinked over towards him, but at this point in time he was incapable of recalling fine details.  
  
"Tell me, do you like this?" Diana performed a neat little pirouette.  
  
The Batman's mind, finely honed computer that it was, crashed.  
  
Backup routines took over and Bruce found himself devouring her mouth with his own, hands grasping places where he'd previously avoided out of a mixture of courtesy and anxieties.  
  
Threatening to suck his tongue out of his mouth, she grabbed him by the shirt collar, wanting to lead him to the four-post bed but unwilling to break the contact. Unfortunately, at that moment synchronous co-ordination was the furthest thing from their minds, and his legs tangled with hers, causing them both to crash to the floor.  
  
There was a moment of deathly silence, then a deep-throated chuckling rose from the ground. It was followed by a gut-wrenching bout of laughter.  
  
When their laughter subsided, a voice filled the silence. "That was unfortunate."  
  
"Want to try again?"  
  
"What's wrong with right here?'  
  
"On the floor?"  
  
"The rug. Persian."  
  
"Intriguing ... " suddenly a two hundred and ten-pound six-foot two male found himself casually swung onto the bed like a handbag. He was then straddled and found a tongue down his gullet before he could react. "...but I want to give this..." she patted the bed. "...a trial run first."  
  
***  
  
Aquaman's head broke the surface of the water, looking around. He had abandoned the submarine, and had decided to take the next leg of the journey himself to avoid any defences put up. Just because he hadn't seen any yet didn't mean that they're weren't any.  
  
Arthur swam the next ten miles, making sure that the beach was deserted. Good.  
  
He retrieved the Gazette, lodging it in the sand, making sure that Diana's face was prominent. He then waited around for somebody ... ten minutes later, he saw a sentry walk along the edge of the beach, spear and shield in hand.  
  
The King of the Seven Seas threw a small pebble onto a rock, then slowly retreated into the ocean. He waited until she came near the shore in her investigations, then spotted and picked up the newspaper before he descended into the waters.  
  
***  
  
Nightwing spun on one leg, sending his heel into a gang member's jaw, his hand releasing a one and a half foot baton, which flew towards and connected with the groin of the boy trying to sneak up on him.  
  
Not too far away, Batgirl kicked a full trashcan, the impact sending it flying into the head of her opponent, who went down like a sack of wet sand. Without turning around, she caught the bicycle chain that was flying to her head, and pulled. The attacker was wrenched towards the girl half his height and was met by a boot in the nose.  
  
He quickly scanned the area, searching for any possible threats. Seeing none, he bent down, and retrieved something from one of the many prone bodies strewn around him. "Hey Cass! Tic Tac?"  
  
Batgirl looked at the proffered mints, then shook her head.  
  
"Wanna head to the mansion? Give Bruce an update?"  
  
Cassandra shook her head, miming a lasso.  
  
"Okay, she might be there. You'll like her."  
  
She shook her head more forcefully.  
  
"C'mon, Cass. I mean ... what do you think they're doing?"  
  
Batgirl rolled her eyes at Dick. The answer was pretty obvious - she immediately started thrusting her hips in mid-air with accompanying arm movements.  
  
Dick did what any child does when confronted with their parent's sex life; he turned away, pushing his fingers in his ears, and started muttering 'Popeye the Sailor Man' as quickly as possible.  
  
***  
  
They lay there, not looking at anything, fingers running along each other's bodies, savouring the contact.  
  
Diana spoke first. "That was ... different."  
  
Bruce looked quickly at her, concern etching in his features. "Did I..."  
  
"No, no. I liked ... well, liked is an understatement. I was a bit surprised...."  
  
"Oh that. Something I picked up in India."  
  
"And here I was thinking that you wasted your youth on martial arts training and the like."  
  
"It's amazing what you learn when you travel. Although, I didn't know that you knew how to..."  
  
"Women's magazines. They don't just promote anorexia."  
  
"Ah." Bruce shuffled himself up so that his shoulders lay on the pillows, so he could watch Diana lying beside him. He felt ... some kind of peaceful lethargy, from the simple action of just watching her.  
  
It took a full minute to place the emotion; contentment.  
  
"We've wasted a lot of time, haven't we?"  
  
"Speak for yourself..." murmured the immortal amazon. "Still, with the lives we live ... we can't just put things off today. There's a risk..." she moved in closer, draping one arm over his chest, covered in a fine mat of hairs. "...that we might not see tomorrow."  
  
"Carpe Deum?"  
  
"Always."  
  
"Well ... in that spirit..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I propose..."  
  
"Go on..."  
  
"We try everything."  
  
"Everything?"  
  
"At least once."  
  
"Do you have something in mind?"  
  
Bruce told her. Her eyes widened.  
  
"That might be a little uncomfortable."  
  
"If you..."  
  
"Why not?" Her grin could only be described as wicked.  
  
"I ... I mean, there's..."  
  
"Bruce..." she threw back the covers with a flourish. "...get to work, boy."  
  
He gave a small salute with his fingers before doing as the lady ordered.  
  
***  
  
Hippolyta, Immortal Queen of the Amazons and once replacement for her daughter's role as Ambassador of Man's World, looked at the newspaper with mounting horror.  
  
A sentry had found this on the beach, and recognising Diana, brought it to her Queen. Since the sentry spoke very little English, she was quite unprepared for the reaction of the bilingual Queen.  
  
The monarch got up, eyes blazing with fury. "I will travel to man's world at once."  
  
***  
  
In the still of the night, Diana, Princess of Themyscira, gave a sharp, prolonged scream.  
  
***  
  
Alfred entered the house, pocketing his keys while touching the napkin with that young girl's phone number ... what was her name again, Kimberley?  
  
Quickly looking inside Bruce's bedroom, the sight made one eyebrow raise slightly.  
  
The bed covers had been thrown off, and a pillow had lodged itself on top of the cupboard on the other side of the room. The room badly needed airing, and a can of whipped cream lay forlornly on the carpet.  
  
Diana lay asleep, wearing a single torn black stocking that was now coiled around her ankle, while Bruce was behind her, one arm curled around her abdomen. Her face was curled into a lethargic smile, and his sleeping features were calm for the first time Alfred could remember.  
  
Wordlessly, the butler left the room, to soon return with fresh linen, which he laid over the two. His quiet movements didn't disturb their slumber. Alfred then took the bundle of blankets to the laundry room ... and threw out the whipped cream, although it was still half full, he suspected that it wouldn't be used for food anytime before it's sell-by date.  
  
Alfred silently wished his master peace before retiring ... and hoped that he wouldn't stuff this up anytime soon.  
  
***  
  
At roughly seven thirty, three figures walked up the drive to the front door of Wayne Manor. One wore a flowing white Greek robe and a murderous expression, the other two wore copper armour and short swords.  
  
Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons raised her fist and brought it smartly on the door. The three-inch thick door shattered like matchwood, and the Queen pushed the remains aside.  
  
Alfred Pennyworth walked towards the trio. "Excuse me, may I..."  
  
One of the Queen's honour guard, selected for their fighting skills and their discretion, shoved Alfred aside. Even though they didn't have the power levels of their Queen and Princesses, their strength was still in the meta range, sending the butler into the wall.  
  
Bruce even at the best of times a light sleeper, heard the commotion. His eyes snapped open, and he immediately threw on a sweatsuit and sneakers, a long time master of the quick change.  
  
He ran out of the room, slowing down when he saw the three women, recognising Hippolyta immediately.  
  
As he moved to see if Alfred was all right, his actions attracted their attention, and they quickly ascended the stairs. Bruce experienced the sinking feeling which is common to every male whenever they see the relatives of the woman they have spend a debauched evening with.  
  
Ra's Al Ghul, father of whom could conceivably be called an ex-girlfriend, tried to kill him at every opportunity. Somehow he suspected that the Queen of the Amazons would not be that merciful.  
  
Hippolyta and her two companions, possibly her bodyguard, drew level with Bruce. He knew that charm would not help, but he tried anyway.  
  
"I don't believe we've..."  
  
The Queen of the Amazons, with the kind of meta-level strength that would allow her to comfortably juggle tanks, grabbed Bruce's throat and lifted him up. "I am the mother of the daughter you were trying to seduce."  
  
Vision greying, Bruce clutched at the arm. It was at that point that Diana chose to walk out of the bedroom wearing a terry-cloth robe, looking around. "Bruce...where...?"  
  
Then she saw her mother, holding Bruce off the ground by the neck.  
  
The Queen of the Amazons looked at her daughter, knowing she wore nothing under that robe, and how easy it would be...  
  
"Put him down right now, mother."  
  
Hippolyta threw Bruce to the ground, nodding to her guards. "Remove him from my sight!"  
  
The two guards dragged the choking Bruce away while Hippolyta headed towards her daughter. "What is the meaning of this?"  
  
"I thought it was obvious."  
  
Hippolyta's mouth performed an intriguing series of twitches. "Did you think of the consequences of your act?"  
  
"Evidently more carefully than you thought of your own!"  
  
"Do you realise what has happened? This male has taken advantage of your innocence for his own..."  
  
"Innocence? I had to ask him out! I was the one who seduced him!"  
  
"You were manipulated by a master of this depraved practice!" Hippolyta produced ... yep, that article. "He is a dangerous predator!"  
  
"First, Mother, I have the physical power to rip off his arm and beat him to death with the soggy end. I was not in any physical danger! Second, I know about this, I have been reading English longer than you have! And most of this is fabrication!"  
  
"You are not thinking clearly!"  
  
***  
  
The two guards, several thousand years old, whose last encounter with males was the war against Heracles, an unpleasant encounter involving deception, rape and enslavement, held up the devious male who had seduced their princess.  
  
He didn't even seem too aware of the world around him, as the guards propped him up against the wall. "Wake up!"  
  
He didn't seem to understand a dialect of Greek not spoken for millennia, so in order to assist -translation, the guard slapped the insensible Bruce in the face for each syllable. "Can - you - un - der - stand - me - pig?"  
  
Her friend lifted Bruce up by the hair. "Perhaps the queen would appreciate us educating him, eh?"  
  
"I feel that is a lesson she'd enjoy giving herself..."  
  
"Then we should give him..." she lifted his head up and looked him in the eyes "...a 'beginner's course'?"  
  
***  
  
Hippolyta ran her fingers through her hair, blood pressure rising. "The guards will show Wayne the penalty of dishonouring Themyscira's princess."  
  
"You've told them to beat him up."  
  
***  
  
One of the guards tried to lift up Bruce, the other finding a nice heavy candlestick, Somehow she was having trouble getting him into position, he kept on slumping over at precisely the wrong time.  
  
The second grabbed Bruce by the arm, lifting him up. "Perhaps we should wait for him to wake up?"  
  
Her friend listened to the escalating argument outside. "Best to do it now..."  
  
The male slumped again, slipping out of his captor's grasp. He staggered towards the first, arms flailing...  
  
...his wildly gesticulating arms hitting the guard with incredible force, driving her back into the wall. Then he seemed to turn, accidentally slapping the other, knocking her over.  
  
After all, the amazons had never heard of Drunken Boxing.  
  
Bruce dropped the semi-conscious act, as they got up, now angry. Two angry, trained, meta-level women, out for blood.  
  
***  
  
The lack of concern made the Queen frown. "Do you not care?"  
  
Diana shrugged.   
  
"He won't hurt them too much."  
  
The door to the bedroom shattered, sending the blonde guard flying out onto the landing. Hippolyta watched as the guard shakily stood up, and ran back into the room, the sounds of the brawl now fully audible.  
  
Alfred approached the two women, a cut to his head plastered. "Good morning Miss Diana."  
  
"Good morning Alfred."  
  
The other guard flew through the shattered door, landing face first on the carpet.  
  
"Do you have any preferences for breakfast, or shall I continue with the bacon and eggs?"  
  
"That will be fine. Mother will have some of that fruit platter you make...?"  
  
Hippolyta listened as the sounds of two of her best guards having the crap kicked out of them reverberated throughout the manor.  
  
"I'm going to deal with Wayne myself..." Diana grabbed her mother's arm.  
  
"I think you've interfered enough."  
  
One of the guards flew through the door, rolled to the railing, crashed through it, then fell to the floor below.  
  
She got up, woozy, grabbing for a bright blue object for balance - until Alfred snatched the priceless vase out of her reach, causing her to fall to the ground again.  
  
Bruce rolled out of the bedroom, trying to prise the hands of the blonde guard off his throat, while she tried to unsuccessfully bite the thumb that was lodged in her eye-socket.  
  
On the ground floor, the guard, angered, tried to snatch the vase from Alfred, who somehow kept it out of her reach.  
  
"This old body is not long for this world..." She lunged again, failing.  
  
"...the fixtures and panelling can be replaced..." The guard feinted left, then lunged again, Alfred not fooled for a second.  
  
"...but you will damage the last of Mrs. Wayne's favourite pieces of china..." Noting that she wasn't going to be any more fixated on the vase, he produced a heavy lead mace, smashing her smartly over the head. The blow made her collapse to the ground, moaning.  
  
"...over Alfred Pennyworth's decaying corpse." He twirled the mace once before re-mounting it behind him.  
  
Bruce had levered the fingers off his windpipe and shoved the Amazon away from him. She drew her sword out, intent on skewering the wretch.  
  
Alfred materialised behind the arguing Diana and her mother. "I'm afraid we have no more paw paws. Will cantaloupe suffice?"  
  
"Perfectly. Did it ever occur to you that I might wish to pursue a relationship? At all?"  
  
Bruce ducked a wild swipe and lunge, rolling to avoid the blow that shattered a nearby table.  
  
"I hoped that you might consider the fact that a daughter of Themyscira is required to act appropriately!"  
  
"By who's standard? Have you no faith in my own judgement?"  
  
Bruce grabbed the guard's wrist, and squeezed in two places. She dropped the weapon, but hit Bruce across the face.  
  
She was about to grab it when Alfred suddenly kicked it away. "Oopsie."  
  
The guard was about to hit this interloper when Bruce grabbed her neck, and started slamming her head repeatedly into the floor.  
  
"Would you prefer orange juice, or coffee, madam?"  
  
"Eh...?"  
  
"She'll have the orange juice. You dare to question my conduct when yours is at question, by attempting to have my boyfriend beaten up?"  
  
Hippolyta watched the man described as a useless fop entangle her guard's hands with his own, then sending a vicious round of blows into her face. She turned to the manservant. "Is this normal ... among males of his class?"  
  
"He's at that age where it's either that or Scientology, madam."  
  
The guard entangled Bruce while he was positioning for a kick, the expended kinetic energy sending them rolling off the landing, and landing onto a coffee table below.  
  
"I think we all know which is the preferable option."  
  
The guard got up, but Bruce sent a piledriving blow into her head, sending her down. He got up, dusting himself off on shaky legs, then trotted up the stairs to where Hippolyta looked at him in near shock.  
  
"You must be Diana's mother..." He took her hand. "I must say this is one of the more interesting times I've been introduced to members of the family."  
  
A slight cough drew them to Alfred. "Breakfast is served."  
  
***  
  
The guards had been woken up, and nursing bruising and contusions, ate the breakfast Alfred had prepared. Bruce and Diana sat next to each other while Hippolyta positioned herself between her daughter and her guards.  
  
Hippolyta spoke up first. "Which hero are you then, Wayne?"  
  
Diana and Bruce looked at each other, then at the woman. "What do you mean?"  
  
"First, no other man would be able to beat my guards. These two are some of the finest fighters on our island and yet you beat them." She looked Bruce directly in the eye. "I also recognised some of Ted Grant's fighting style."  
  
The infamous Wildcat of the JSA, which Hippolyta, thanks to the mysteries of time travel, had served with retroactively. Bruce, during his many studies in his youth, learned the finer points of boxing - mainly hitting somebody as hard as humanly possible.  
  
"So, Diana, which hero is he? The one known as Beetle? The Lantern? Flash?"  
  
"How many heroes are within Gotham, madam?"  
  
"Alfred!"  
  
"You have just beaten two women who were each stronger than Bane on that concoction of his. Things like that tend to clash with your media image."  
  
Hippolyta suddenly looked at Bruce with a new light. "There is one who is not mentioned ... but everyone knows. One who took the lawless city and bent it to his will..."  
  
"Careful, he's got enough of a swollen head as it is."  
  
"Why does everybody think I have a titanic ego?"  
  
"Not everybody Bruce. Just those you've met."  
  
"Tell me, Batman...how did you beat these two?" The guards were pecking at Alfred's fruit platter, the loose teeth and split lips making consumption difficult.  
  
Bruce let the Bat seep into his posture. "Your guards were highly trained, with the added bonus of having thousands of years to practice and duel. They can fight more easily than breathing ... that is their weakness."  
  
Hippolyta frowned at this. Diana was also puzzled. "Explain."  
  
"They have completely mastered only one fighting style. They have no knowledge of any other form of combat. They've never seen or heard of oriental fighting styles, or modern western boxing. So anybody such as myself, who's seen Diana fight up close in her early years, or yourself ... or even study the news footage of those events. There's a significant amount of media dedicated to superhumans, even during World War Two. Any modern library will have hundreds of hours of footage available. Then, you can anticipate how they'll fight. The habit of thousands of years is particularly hard to break, I'd imagine."  
  
Hippolyta nodded slowly, looking again at her guards. Alfred had given them water and Tylenol, but were demanding what he was giving them. She ordered them to shut up and take the painkiller, then back to Bruce.  
  
"You turned their own discipline against them..."  
  
"The art of the warrior is never static. Along with the discipline of maintaining your art, there is the discipline of mastering new arts, and the methods of your enemies, be they old, new or potential."  
  
Hippolyta leaned back in her chair, taking a swig of orange juice. "Thank you Batman. You have revealed to me a danger in our thinking." She looked at her daughter, who had remained silent throughout Bruce's statement. She switched to Greek. "Can others employ those techniques?"  
  
"Possibly." Diana answered in English. "And only one language at the table, mother, it's rude."  
  
"Very well. Tell me Wayne..." her posture shifted to a more aggressive stance. "...do you intend to harm my daughter?"  
  
"I have never set out to do so. Not before, not now, not in the future."  
  
Hippolyta coldly evaluated him. The first male she'd trusted had poisoned and imprisoned her. Although the others she'd met, and the heroes she'd fought alongside with in the JSA had softened her attitude, the initial distrust of men still remained. Now her daughter was obviously enamoured with this one.  
  
A proven hero, yes, but one who had hidden his existence, and regarded with no uncertain amount of fear.  
  
The urge to grab him and rip his heart out was irresistible, but the mother realised that you can only alienate your daughter so much in one day. And judging from the looks they were giving each other, the familiarity ... it didn't seem to be likely he would be hurting her in the near future.  
  
"I will allow you some ... freedom to pursue this..."  
  
"Courtship, madam?" Alfred refilled her glass.  
  
"Courtship, yes." She glanced at Alfred, warily, then leaned towards Bruce. "What I hear about you is ... disturbing, Batman. But with that fear is respect. Respect for a honourable warrior." She started tapping the tabletop for each second word. "If Diana is harmed in any way, you will face me, and..."  
  
"...you will not threaten me." His voice was low, but the undercurrent of malevolence was plain to all, even the guards. "To threaten me is to make an enemy of me, and believe this, if you have heard about what I can do, you do not want to make me your enemy." He matched her eyes, and getting her first look at The Bat, Hippolyta unconsciously drew back.  
  
"I will never harm her. You have my word on this. If you don't believe me, fine. Let my actions be evidence." He drank the last of his coffee, then held it out for a refill, not breaking eye contact for a second.  
  
Hippolyta nodded, then stood up, the guards following her example. "Very well. Diana...?"  
  
Diana looked at Bruce, then moved over to her mother. "Yes...?"  
  
Hippolyta started speaking in rapid Greek. "He has no ill intentions, and will do nothing to harm you ... but he will, in any fashion."  
  
"Mother..."  
  
"Let me finish. You serve Peace. He is an instrument of ... Order. His Order." She looked at her daughter sadly. "I may be wrong, but I cannot see this being ... permanent. Please keep that in mind."  
  
Diana looked at Bruce. The fact that his features were a mask was a sign he didn't know what her mother was saying.  
  
"I ... I shall. I promise."  
  
***  
  
Hippolyta was escorted to the door. Alfred had tended to the guard's wounds, and they seemed to hold Bruce with a grudging respect. Hippolyta shook hands formally with Bruce and Alfred, then hugged her daughter. "I do not know how this news will be taken back home."  
  
"It'll be the first bit of juicy gossip in millennia. That seems to be the function of royalty in this world."  
  
"Unusual. Take care." With that, she started down the drive, Alfred closing the metal door that had been installed after Bane had barged in unannounced.  
  
As soon as the front door shut, Bruce immediately lowered himself to a nearby chair, taking ragged breaths. His face seemed to be paling, and his hand was visibly shaking.  
  
Diana quickly leaned over and examined him. Apart from the facial bruising, there were damaged ribs and nasty blows around the abdomen.  
  
Bruce glanced at her face, and gave a slight grin. "They got one or two good ones in."  
  
"More like six or seven. Might be some damage to the windpipe." Her expression turned murderous. "Why didn't you get Alfred to check you out rather than just chatting to my mother?"  
  
"Your mother rules a warrior society. What do you think she'd respect more ... someone who fought her champions and took his injuries in stride, or someone who was beaten to a pulp?" Diana's fingers pressed a sharp spot, making him wince. "I've had worse."  
  
Alfred emerged, hefting a well-used case. "Many a time he's incurred multiple injuries that would send any sane man straight to the emergency ward. He progresses despite my advice." The case was cracked open to reveal a first aid kit that bordered on the obsessively well prepared. "Fortunately ... or unfortunately, this ranks about minor to middling on his regular injury scale. I'll fetch the bandages. Miss Diana, can you help him to the bedroom?"  
  
As Alfred left, Diana noticed that Bruce was inclining his neck at an odd angle. "Is something wrong with your neck?"  
  
"I'm trying to avoid the view. It's very ... distracting."  
  
Diana looked down. At the angle she was leaning over, the robe she wore gaped open giving anybody in the chair a sight to die for.  
  
"So I distract you?" Her lip curled up slightly.  
  
"Oh y..."  
  
His response was muffled as Diana grabbed the back of his neck, and shoved him face first into her cleavage. "Is this a distraction, Mr Wayne?"  
  
A suppressed sound made her turn to see Dick Grayson, and two people she didn't recognise; a woman in a wheelchair and a teenager, all staring at the sight of her manhandling Bruce Wayne's head down her top.  
  
She stepped back reflexively, the sight of his damaged face drawing gasps. "I knew something like this would happen." muttered the woman.  
  
Diana closed her robe hurriedly. "That was caused by my mother."  
  
Dead silence.  
  
"I meant that it was the two women she brought along. Her bodyguards."  
  
The three looked like stunned statues.  
  
Alfred entered, carrying several bandages. "Good morning Master Dick, Master Tim, Miss Barbara. Could you help? It appears Miss Diana's mother came around to defend her daughter's honour."  
  
Dick and Tim suddenly snapped out of their trance, and started to bind their mentor. From the looks of it, they'd had a lot of practice.  
  
The woman - Barbara - wheeled herself over to Diana and held out her hand. "Er ... hi. Barbara Gordon."  
  
Diana took her hand - from the looks of her musculature, she'd been in that chair for some years. "Diana." Something about the woman's voice rang a bell. "Have we met?"  
  
Barbara looked faintly embarrassed. "When we talk, I normally use a voxbox and computer system..."  
  
Diana looked at the young woman with new eyes. "You're the Oracle?"  
  
"In the flesh." She frowned. "What were you expecting?"  
  
"Green Lantern and Flash have the theory that you're a man."  
  
"She had the operation years ago."  
  
"Sit and swivel, Grayson." Snapped Barbara, offering the mid-digit to perform the operation.  
  
"You're contaminating the minds of the young." Called Dick, pointing to the teen next to him.  
  
While the three were squabbling, Bruce was levering himself up, assisted by Alfred. Diana came around and offered her shoulder, which he took without comment. The three were nearly at Bruce's bedroom before the others noticed.   
  
The visitors raced up the stairs following ... more accurately, Dick and Tim got half way up the stairs before the violent coughing of Barbara, who had been left at the foot of the stairs, drew their attention. Dick picked her up while Tim carried the chair.  
  
By the time they got to the door, Alfred had gently, but firmly stopped them while Diana had placed Bruce in his bed. He looked up at her apologetically. "It looks like I won't be able to do that picnic, after all."  
  
"Considering my mother's track record of interfering with my life, this rates middle to low."  
  
Bruce lay back, looking at Diana. "I'll be fine by tomorrow. This has happened hundreds of times before."  
  
Diana brushed part of his hair back, checking his skin temperature. "Name one time."  
  
"When Kobra stole my body. Clark had to fight him without his powers ... did a good job too. I was feeling his bruises for two weeks afterwards." Bruce's voice softened. "At least I know where he doesn't guard..."  
  
"It didn't look like you felt a thing."  
  
"You use pain..."  
  
"...as motivation." Diana ran a finger along his chin. "Right now, you are one of the most motivated men I've ever seen in my life."  
  
"I'll be fine by tonight. I just need to sleep this off." A pause. "We can have our picnic on ... Wednesday?"  
  
"Make it Thursday."  
  
"Deal."  
  
Diana leaned in, and kissed him, lingering, her tongue tracing the contours of his lips. Without warning, he raised his hands, and gently broke contact. "Ah, Diana ... if this continues, resting is going to be the last thing I'll be capable of."  
  
"If I knew that was all I had to do to break that dark exterior, I would have seduced you years ago."  
  
Bruce eyebrows raised. "If I knew you were willing to go that far, I would have told you."  
  
"Cute. Now get some sleep." She kissed his forehead, then drew the curtains before leaving. "Pleasant Dreams."  
  
Somehow, thought Bruce, that is not going to be an effort.  
  
***  
  
As Diana left the bedroom, holding her dress and clothes under one arm, the group of Alfred, Dick, Tim and Barbara straightened, trying very hard not to look like they'd been listening.  
  
She went to Dick first. "I need a favour."  
  
"Sure ... what?"  
  
"Can you do his patrol again tonight?"  
  
Tim looked away, embarrassed. Barbara smirked, slightly.  
  
"I think he needs more recovery time, that's all." Stated Diana. "From his injuries." She added, before Dick could open his mouth.  
  
Tim couldn't believe this. "He's not going to spend another night on the blocks."  
  
"One night off is pretty much unprecedented." Agreed Barbara.  
  
"Alfred, could you...?"  
  
"Already taken care of." Alfred produced a pre-loaded syringe of ketamine.  
  
"Thank you. Unless the end of the world occurs again, I'll be back on Thursday."  
  
"I shall count the hours until then."  
  
"Charmer." She suddenly hugged Alfred. "Take care of him. And yourself."  
  
"My standing orders for nearly forty years." He nodded, then headed off.  
  
Diana was left facing Bruce's surrogate son, his current pupil and one of the JLA's most important members. "I suppose you wanted to..."  
  
"Find out what's going on." Finished Tim, awkwardly. "He doesn't give too much away."  
  
"Although from the looks of things..."  
  
"Unless we're really mistaken..."  
  
"You've got a thing with Bruce..."  
  
"Which is a major contravention of the laws of all space and time, but we're okay with that."  
  
Diana smiled. "Glad to hear it." She suddenly realised something. "Dick ... does Bruce have a map of major shipping lines?"  
  
***  
  
Aquaman surged up to the surface, the sensation of air hitting his lungs always feeling alien, no matter how many times he did this. He saw Diana sitting on the edge of the beach, perched on top of a rock.  
  
"Diana! What do I owe this pleasure?"  
  
"Glad you came up, Orin." Her voice was flat, controlled.  
  
"Well, when somebody drops a large rock in the middle of the Atlantean city plaza, with 'Orin, the beach, now' carved on the surface, you take it that there's some urgency involved. What happened to the JLA communicator?"  
  
"I didn't want anybody to know about this meeting."  
  
"Including Wayne?" Arthur Curry walked up the sand. "I heard you two were getting cosy."  
  
"Especially him." She turned her head to look at him, her features expressionless. "He's not exactly the forgiving type."  
  
Aquaman made a mask of his face. "Oh? What have I supposed to have done?"  
  
"My mother paid him a visit."  
  
"Meeting the in-laws is always painful the first time."  
  
"He'd agree with you. She made two of her best guards beat him up."  
  
Aquaman couldn't suppress the slight chortle. "Sorry. The great Batman being beaten up by two Amazons ... "  
  
"Oh, he gave them more bruises than they gave him." Her face was still featureless. "Really impressed mother. Gives her full blessing now." She let a slight smile crease her features. "Said something about looking forward to the grandchildren."  
  
She feared that the last part was laying it on a bit thick, but the look on Arthur's face as he realised that he'd critically miscalculated was worth it.  
  
Diana went on. "It's all too soon for that of course, but you know what mothers are like..." she had the knife in, and now she twisted it "... and it's not like we're not going to have a lot of fun if we do decide..."  
  
Orin felt like he had to hold down his breakfast. "Well ... don't let her pressure you..."  
  
"It came a bit sooner than we intended, but better to deal with it sooner rather than later." She got up from her rock, brushing herself off as she walked towards Aquaman. "Really strange, though..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Found out from the Gotham Gazette. It found it's way all the way to Themyscira." She started circling Aquaman as she talked. "That was strange, because mother deliberately keeps anything from 'Man's World' as far as possible. There's a few odd items; a camera, some handguns, even a videotape of 'Titanic'. There aren't that many newspapers, the most recent one is when Superman died."  
  
Aquaman tried to be nonchalant. "Maybe it blew in from a ship...?"  
  
"The closest shipping line is ninety-three miles away. I checked." Diana stopped her circling and stared Aquaman in the eye. "That's somewhat strange, don't you think? Since you're the expert when anything goes beyond the shores, perhaps you've got a theory."  
  
He shrugged. "Not off the top of my head."  
  
"Arthur..." she retrieved her lasso from her belt. "Why don't you put your hand in this? I need to check that it's working."  
  
He looked at the Lasso of Truth, fashioned by the Olympian Gods, which would compel anyone bound to answer directly to Wonder Woman's questions. "Normally, yes. Unfortunately, I was chairing a dispute between some of the local governors when your message flattened a charming piece of local sculpture. They're probably eating each other alive as we speak. So..."  
  
Aquaman turned to leave, and started walking to the edge of the water. "Of course. Sorry to take your time, Arthur. You've got a whole ocean to order around, people who depend on you ... schemes to cook up..."  
  
Aquaman, halfway in the water, turned towards Diana. "Why are you seeing Wayne, for god's sake? He's brooding, bullying, aggravating, obsessed with controlling his little patch of the world..."  
  
"Careful - you just listed some of your best features."  
  
"I'm the first to admit we have some similarities..."  
  
"There's differences, though."  
  
"Obviously. What are they?"  
  
"First of all, he doesn't feel that he has to use my family for his dirty work." Her tone grew cold. "If you ever do anything like this again, I'll make sure my mother knows about what you did. Of course, you'd probably think that Atlantis could win a personally motivated war against Themyscira. But the locals probably wouldn't want to get involved in a war that their king caused by attempting to humiliate their queen and her daughter. Then Bruce will know." She turned her back to Aquaman. "You know what happens to those he feels personally insulted by."  
  
With that, she launched herself up into the air.  
  
Aquaman watched her, feeling a sinking feeling as she disappeared from sight.  
  
He waded back to the shore, and sat down, watching the waves, assessing his miscalculation. Perhaps if he'd been quicker, maybe asked her out.  
  
Still, in all probability, she would soon realise what a mistake she'd made with Wayne, and kick him out of her life. Then he'd start working on her again. That thought cheered him up immensely.  
  
As Arthur got up, and entered the water, he idly wondered what the Janisary was doing at the moment...  
  
***  
  
Later.  
  
Eleven-fourteen pm, Gotham City.  
  
James Gordon, Police Commissioner of Gotham City, publicly credited with holding the city together during the infamous No-Man's Land, and recent widower, got out of the cruiser.  
  
"What's the situation?"  
  
"Some guys from out of town tried to rob the museum ... think they tried to use some of that Metropolis technology."  
  
Gordon seriously considered starting smoking again for the seventh time today. "Guess they didn't read the manual. What kind of weapons are they using?"  
  
A sphere of energy roughly the size of a baseball shot out of a window and hit the cruiser that Gordon was just in. It exploded, sending the vehicle flipping up, then down onto the ground.  
  
Detective Harvey Bullock, Major Crimes, looked cautiously from his position behind a cruiser's front section, watching his boss form an intimate embrace with the blacktop. "Something lifted from the set of Phantom Menace?"  
  
***  
  
The men looked out at the surrounding cops, and grinned. The B13 upgrade worked wonders on a bunch of stuff lifted from a National Guard Armory, turning M-16s into plasma guns, night-vision goggles into full sensor arrays, and a LAW into a shoulder-mounted cannon which would punch through Superman's skin.  
  
Unfortunately, this worked on every other piece of technology in the city, so they decided to move into less advanced territories. Ever since Catwoman had been locked up, people had decided to put stuff that was actually valuable into the Museum.  
  
"I don't know why you pussies are worried ... we can just walk out of here. You get the stuff ready, and we'll shoot our way out."  
  
One of the men turned to where a bunch of once-bulletproof-vests-now-force-field-harnesses were stacked... "Hey, where'd they go..."  
  
The lights went. Grimacing, the leader scrabbled for his goggles ... but somehow, it was too hard to get them on in the dark, and the straps kept getting in the way.  
  
Something snatched them out of his hands.  
  
The others tried to get this ... something that took their goggles and weapons, but it moved too fast, and couldn't be seen.  
  
It stopped, in front of them. A living, moving shadow.  
  
The shadow's blank gaze sweeping over them and their spoils, as they grabbed their plasma rifles.  
  
It grinned.  
  
"You're new here, aren't you?"  
  
Something flew from it's fist, and their rifles were smashed out of their hands.  
  
"Welcome to Gotham."  
  
Then it sprang out, claws outstretched.  
  
***  
  
Gordon perched on top of a cruiser, and looked at his watch.  
  
"Got an appointment, Commish?"  
  
"Hardly, Bullock. I'm just wondering..."  
  
A scream rang out from the museum, and an energy blast rang out.  
  
"...must have been delayed."  
  
The police force got ready, hearing the now familiar screams of terrified criminals. "I heard about a purse snatcher on the other side of town..." stated Bullock, chambering his twelve-gauge.  
  
"Must have been it." Gordon produced his forty-five, and cocked the hammer.  
  
They ran out into the night, terrified. One was bloodied and limping, another was holding his arm at an odd angle.  
  
What made Gordon's heart sink was that who looked like the leader still had one of those fancy Metropolis guns.  
  
The leader looked back at the museum, then at the cops before him. He grinned, raising his rifle at the police...  
  
"Leave him to me!"  
  
Everybody turned to look in the air at this.  
  
Somebody landed in front of the police - a woman in a bright red, blue and gold costume. Holding a metal circular shield.  
  
Wonder Woman strode towards the crew, body language radiating authority. "This is your only warning, you will lay down your weapons and surrender immediately!"  
  
As she expected, they didn't. They never did. Still, it was an unwritten rule to issue at least one warning, like the Miranda Rights.  
  
The one holding the rifle fired, only to be intercepted by the shield that she carried. The metal of the shield was composed of the same material as her bracelets, which made Superman's dermis look like melted butter. However, the shield was a better choice against superheated gases projected within a magnetic bubble, because her bracelets would have protected her wrists, but leave her arms and face covered in third and fourth degree burns.  
  
Before the shooter could think to target her legs, his weapon was snagged by a gold rope, and snatched out of his grasp.  
  
Wonder Woman absently stood on the weapon as she advanced. The smallest of the gang walked towards her, pulling on ... some mechanical gauntlet?  
  
Without ceremony, the individual drew back his ...no her, Diana now noticed her feminine form ... fist, and hit her across the chin.  
  
A bright flash lit up the front of the museum, when everybody's retinas cleared, Wonder Woman had been thrown clear across the street and landed in the front window of a health food store.  
  
The gauntlet had once been a set of brass knuckles, now it was a rudimentary low-powered antimatter generator. Across the knuckles, single anti-particles were contained within low-level magnetic fields. Whenever they came in contact with anything solid, the magnetic fields would blink out, and release a single anti-particle.  
  
Wonder Woman got up, on shaking legs, her jaw sore, several teeth feeling loose, and the copper taste of blood pooled in her lips.  
  
She leapt into the air, and flew towards the celebrating criminals. They found themselves knocked to the ground, with the exception of the female, who somehow had been drop-kicked into the windscreen of a police cruiser.  
  
Wonder Woman wiped the blood from her lip, then hauled up two of the criminals. "I believe you wanted to speak with these gentlemen...?"  
  
The police immediately swarmed over the crew, handcuffing them and leading them to the awaiting cruisers. Wonder Woman walked towards Gordon, shaking his hand. "Commissioner James Gordon?"  
  
"Evidently."  
  
"Dumb bitch..." This comment was being made by one of the thieves, being marched past them. "Her boyfriend's probably got stuff in here ... saving his investments..."  
  
Wonder Woman gave him a bland look before turning back to Gordon. Then her eighty-five pound, solid indestructible-metal shield somehow slipped from her grasp, and landed edge first on the objector's foot.  
  
He gave an agonised howl as she picked up her shield, her face a look of innocence. "Whoops."  
  
"Whoops what?" Stated Gordon. "I didn't see anything."  
  
"Same here."  
  
"Ditto."  
  
"See what?"  
  
The man was hopping, complaining loudly. "Abuse of authority! I can't believe you'd let her do that!"  
  
Bullock pushed his head down, to guide him into the cruiser ... but somehow managed to slam his head into the doorframe instead. "Welcome to Gotham."  
  
***  
  
While the police were securing the crew, Wonder Woman was led by Gordon into a nearby alleyway. "I assume you wanted to say something to me?"  
  
She looked at Gordon, suddenly embarrassed. "It's ... well, it seems I'll be spending more time in Gotham than usual."  
  
"I heard."  
  
"I'm not going to be here all the time, Commissioner, but when I am here, I'm would like to help out. Before I do that, I'd like your official sanction."  
  
Gordon looked at her, and gave an odd smile. "You trash a bunch of hoods that could have wiped out half the force, and you're asking my permission to do more of the same?"  
  
"I take it that's a yes?"  
  
"Hell yes. However, I'm too sure that I'm the one who's approval you should be seeking." He raised his voice. "What do you think?"  
  
The dark voice split the shadows cleanly. "No objections whatsoever." Part of the shadows moved, slightly. "She's a trained warrior. Proved herself over and over again." The shadow grinned. "Also, her reputation would enhance your career rather than drag it down."  
  
"Ever since No-Man's Land, I've gotten three book offers and a security directorship at LexCorp." Retorted Gordon. "Wonder Woman, the GCPD offers it's full public support."  
  
She formally shook his hand. "You won't be disappointed. Batman, I have to discuss a few things...?"  
  
The shadow was moving up the side of a building. Just before she decided to follow, she looked at Gordon. "How did you know he was behind you? I've never been able to catch him."  
  
The Commissioner, possibly the closest thing to a friend that the Batman had, started moving away. "I never have either. Just assume he's there when there's something interesting going on, and you'll rarely be wrong."  
  
Wonder Woman lifted into the air, after the shadow.  
  
***  
  
On the roof, the Batman was waiting for her.  
  
Diana landed on the roof, a few feet away, looking at him.  
  
His voice suddenly took a less grating timbre. "Looks like you impressed the locals."  
  
"Hope so..." she moved her jaw around experimentally. "I'd hoped for a less violent introduction into Gotham's culture."  
  
"That was a less violent introduction into Gotham's culture." Batman moved over to her, leading her to sit down, then examining her face with the care of a paramedic. "Next time, don't test out new and unusual weaponry on your chin."  
  
"Only when you stop taking on seven armed bandits with only a piece of rope and a nifty cape." She stated.  
  
"Point taken." He finished his examination. "Nothing broken. How does it feel?"  
  
"I got worse when I was a teenager."  
  
"Somehow, it's hard to imagine you as a teenager."  
  
"Imagine a girl, with a single mother, and five thousand younger aunts, with no other boys and girls to play with."  
  
"At least you bypassed the pre-pubescent gender war."  
  
Diana looked at her boyfriend with the fond/exasperated smile that was becoming common whenever she was around him. "That is the first time I have heard the 'boys are icky' phase described so clinically." She raised her hand to her mouth again. "It feels like they've increased to three times their size."  
  
"Cheaper than collagen."  
  
"I can hardly see supermodels lining up to get punched in the face."  
  
"I can see people lining around the block to volunteer."  
  
"Bruce, I was thinking..."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"I'd like one of those cupboards that's empty in your house. To keep a change of clothes, my toothbrush, some weaponry ... stuff like that."  
  
"Of course." He suddenly stopped. "You can keep your weapons in the cave, if you want. It's safer."  
  
"If somebody else is in the house when an emergency is announced?" She pointed out.  
  
"I'll buy a safe then."  
  
"I like that ... someone who isn't afraid to spend his money on my problems."  
  
Batman traced her cheekbones, faintly grinning. "According to half the media, you're only after my money. Better give them something to write about."  
  
"I really like the sound of that." She felt his arms curling around her waist. "And I'd better start fulfilling every carnal urge you've ever had."  
  
"You're half way there..."  
  
Wonder Woman suddenly leaned in, kissing Batman, not giving him a chance to escape ... but at this point he wasn't inclined to try. After a full three minutes, she gently leaned back, looking at his face. "I just realised, we've never did that while wearing full costume."  
  
"What about the first..."  
  
"I had a dress, and you had your mask off. Didn't count."  
  
"Oh ..:" He thought for a moment. "Is there anything else you want to do, while we have our costumes on now..."  
  
"A few things ... but none of them are legal in public."  
  
He grabbed her closer. "My average patrol violates at least seven federal laws every night."  
  
"Did I ever tell you how much I like the way you think...?"  
  
As Wonder Woman moved towards his face, the Batman moved a hand to his ear. "Damn."  
  
"What?" Diana had a sinking feeling.  
  
"The Riddler. Left one of his trademarks where VX gas was stolen." Already he was moving to the edge of the roof. "He'll probably won't set them off, but he's not as experienced with chemicals as Joker or Ivy. Could kill the entire city's population by accident."   
  
Reality intervened again. They were still attached to their 'careers', and whatever time they spent together was dictated by their duties. They didn't have the luxury of knowing that tasks could be delegated or bought off. If they missed a deadline, somebody would die.  
  
"I'll take you there."  
  
Before he could voice an argument, she had hoisted him under the armpits and flew him into the air.  
  
"It's not necessary."  
  
"Yes it is. Besides...Bruce, I think we're at that point where we should talk about certain topics."  
  
"Cohabitation?"  
  
"No ... I still like sleeping alone ... occasionally."  
  
"Meeting each other's friends and family?"  
  
"I'll let you off because of that beating my mother gave you."  
  
"Well ... what then?"  
  
"Have you ever considered some therapy?"  
  
***  
  
Please send any and all comments to atullberg@my-deja.com  



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